


Identity Is Your Most Valuable Possession

by assemblingbrokenmemories, debwalsh



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Incredibles (2004)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe- The Incredibles, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Canon-Typical Violence, Communication would be helpful, Cryokinetic!Bucky, Fake Marriage, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death Mention, Modern with Powers AU, Mutual pining-ish, POV Alternating, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Stucky Big Bang 2017, The marriage is fake until its not, amputee!Bucky, family fic, feelings get involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 01:25:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 72,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11863758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assemblingbrokenmemories/pseuds/assemblingbrokenmemories, https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/pseuds/debwalsh
Summary: Steve and Bucky meet as opposite sides of a battle when the brainwashed Winter Soldier was sent to kill Captain America and ended up captured and a friend instead. This battle and its resulting damage are the nail in the coffin for enhanced individuals, and the government rolls out the Enhanced Relocation Act which rehouses superheroes into civilian life. Seven years later, the glory of the “super hero days” are over and the ERA sees Steve and Bucky masquerading as a married couple with three adopted children- Pietro, Wanda, and Peter. As they struggle to adjust to their as regular citizens, a unique and potentially dangerous offer puts their family in danger. WIll they come together? Or will this see the end of their charade? - The Incredibles AU people (sort of) asked for!





	1. Settle Down? I'm At the Top of My Game

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! So it's been an incredible journey through my first Big Bang! I never thought I'd make it to the finish line, but here we are! 
> 
> This is my contribution to the Stucky Big Bang 2017. The art is by the amazing [debwalsh](http://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/profile)! 
> 
> Thanks go out to my wonderful beta readers for the Big Bang, kelsey_fantasy and aerica13. Without their motivation and support in going through this project, I don't think I could have made it to the end. Special thanks to Juu and Rebecca as well, who lent their services in getting this off the ground!
> 
> Shout outs also go out to the sprints channel! It was real, it was fun, and you're all a big part of me having finished this fic! It was great getting to sprint and share with all you amazing people!
> 
> This is, to date, the longest piece of writing I've ever completed. Without further adieu, enjoy~

_“Sir, a chase is taking place at 17th and Astor. I believe the Captain is already in pursuit.”_ The robotic male voice interjected, cutting out the rock music that had been blaring in the car moments before.

“And to think, I was just getting bored. JARVIS, what do you say we give Ol’ Stars and Stripes a helping hand? Set a course for intercept,” Tony responded, already pressing buttons on the console to switch the car over from manual to autopilot. The car hummed for a moment before he gingerly took his hands off the steering wheel, glad to see that the car seemed to have switched over without a hitch.

_“Sir, is that a wise idea? Captain Rogers appears to have the pursuit under control.”_

“We can’t let Cap have all the fun,” Tony responded. He clicked a button on the dashboard, pieces shifting as the car transformed from a regular vehicle into the staging grounds for Tony’s transformation into Iron Man. He sank a hand into the center console as the driver’s seat lowered back, pieces of his trademark red and gold suit appearing out of compartments along the vehicle’s sides, locking themselves into place across his arms and torso. They were followed shortly by the plates that fastened around his legs, rising up from another series of compartments revealed in the car. “What are we up against?”

_“The moniker the news outlets are using is ‘the Winter Soldier’. He has shown enhanced speed, strength, and endurance along with the possibility of enhanced healing. Reports indicate that he was attempting to gain entrance to Hammer Tech’s testing facilities but was stopped by Captain America.”_

“So like our patriotic friend, but clearly working with incompetent baddies if they’re stealing from Hammer.”

_“Reports also indicate signs of cryokinesis, Sir.”_

“I almost regret wondering where his name came from. The news outlets once again display their amazing knack for creativity,” Tony snorted, followed with a chuckle that came more mechanized as the face plate clicked into place, suit lighting up as the transformation was completed.

_“Sir, we are approaching the combat zone.”_

“Gotta love perfect timing. This is where I jump off. Make sure my baby makes it home in one piece!” With that, Tony pressed another of the many buttons on the car’s console and the roof of the car folded back, giving him an opening to rocket into the sky. It wasn’t hard, once he was airborne, to notice the signs of carnage that littered the streets approaching the zone JARVIS had tracked the target to. Cars lay turned on their sides, some even completely flipped over. Rubble was littered across the ground; street lamps lay knocked over, broken into disjointed pieces across the street; a few of the businesses lining either side of the street had noticeable chunks taken out of the sides of their store fronts, leaving glass shards and bits of concrete littered around them. Most startling, however, were the swaths of ice that lay frozen over both streets and buildings, kicking up a sheen as Tony flew past. It was all the sign he needed to know he was moving in the right direction, approaching where the battle had headed.

It didn’t take him long to find them, either. The chase that had taken place seemed to have come to some kind of a standstill, two figures just a few paces apart on the highway bridge they had stopped on. Tony could pick out Captain America as he approached, the bright blue with red and white accents of his uniform easily recognizable from the times they’d crossed paths before. The figure standing opposite him was clad entirely in black, the gear thick and tactical barring the silver sheen of the metal that seemed to encase his left arm. It was like looking at two opposites- one bright, entreating, and confident while the other was dark, closed off, and almost feral. Tony hadn’t seen the other man before, but the wreckage that seemed to litter the bridge around them gave him a good idea of just how true the news reports must be. The air between them gave the impression of a brief interlude, two fighters stepping back for a moment to regroup and reassess.

“Thought you could use a hand, Uncle Sam,” Tony announced, bringing himself to hover close to the action.

“You couldn’t have picked a better time to show up?” Sarcasm laced the question as Steve scowled up at him.

“Getting a little fresh there, Cap. Who knew you had it— ” Tony’s sensors blared mid-thought, giving him just enough time to veer left and dodge the icy blast that shot through the air. A brief glance told him the blast had come from their dark clad nemesis. Right on the cryokinesis, too, apparently. “Well, somebody’s a little _frosty_ today.”

“This is _not_ the time!” Cap’s shout brought Tony’s gaze down to the man, one of his legs now firmly encased in ice, keeping him locked in place. “He’s getting away!” Sure enough, the distraction provided by hitting one of his targets had given the Winter Soldier the option to run   and he had taken it. He’d already put a good distance between them in just the brief interchange between the heroes.

“In pursuit! Come back for you later, Capsicle!” Tony kicked his rockets into high gear, shooting off after the rapidly retreating figure now making his way across the bridge. For all of the Winter Soldier’s enhanced speed, it took but a matter of moments for the armor to put him within range to fire a warning shot. It glanced just close enough that it caused the other man to falter in his balance.

“Winter Soldier! Stand down!”

The Soldier chose instead to duck behind a car that had miraculously stayed upright, using it as cover. It wasn’t a large obstacle, but in the moments it took Tony to fire up his targeting systems the other had already taken mark, firing shots of ice in his direction. Sensors blaring, Tony was forced to take evasive action, dodging the blasts as they grew steadily closer to hitting true.

_“Sir, further evasive matters are suggested. There does not seem to be a limit on the number of shots he can produce and they are growing increasingly close as he analyzes your fight patterns.”_

“I can see that!” Tony growled through gritted teeth. “Can you give me a clear target?”

_“Negative, Sir. Current evasive maneuvers prevent the targeting systems from calculating a clear target.”_

“Well, we’ll just have to do our best with what we’ve got, then.” Foregoing the targeting systems almost entirely, Tony aimed vaguely at the car the Winter Soldier was hiding behind and fired a blast, sending the car up in flames and rocking it to the point of rolling onto its side. The Winter Soldier scrambled from behind, trying to recover from the quick evasion to run for cover yet again. Taking advantage of this new opening, Tony surged forward and chose to ram full speed into the retreating figure, sending them both toppling to the ground.

It was a miscalculation on his part. As they toppled the unarmored man latched on instead of trying to gain his distance, causing them to roll together. When they stopped, Tony found himself flattened under the bulk of the other man, pinned by the Soldier’s metallic arm. The power it displayed seemed excessive even for a someone with enhanced strength. The look in his eyes was nothing short of murderous, carrying with it the feralness that had defined his posture since he had first come onto the scene of the chase.The silver hand was placed over the Arc Reactor of his suit, a flash of awareness telling Tony just how ready he was to make the debilitating blow.

_“Sir, the arm shows no sign of organic composition. It is entirely composed of metal.”_

Entirely metal? Like some sort of prosthetic? Formulating a plan even as the hand began to clench, the metal of the torso of his suit groaning under the pressure. Bringing one hand up, repulsor whirring to life with the motion, he blasted at the metal. The light flared between them, temporarily obscuring the results of the shot before they cleared and the man who had been perched over him was now sans one fancy metal arm. The Winter Soldier looked over, shock reading on his features for a moment at the still molten edges near his shoulder before he pitched sideways, eyes rolling into his head.

Tony wasted no time in landing a second blow, this one a swift shot to the side of his head to make sure he fell off him, crumpling decisively to the ground. It also gave him the opportunity to put himself on top…

“Iron Man! Stop!” He hadn’t even entirely rolled to his feet when the authoritative voice broke from behind him. Steve had finally caught up, only a slight limp to his step as he hurried to join them. “He’s down. Leave him be.”

“Nice of you to finally make an appearance,” Tony quipped, standing to face Steve. “Leaving your messes for somebody else to clean up? Honestly, I’m surprised at you, Cap.”

The look that Cap gave him was nothing short of withering, but the sirens in the distance betrayed that law enforcement would quickly be arriving. Cap stepped around Tony to study the prone figure behind him.

“A lot less fearsome without that metal arm, isn’t he? Think you’ll be able to handle him?” Tony asked.

“Don’t you think that was a little extreme? Blowing his arm off?”

“Relax, Cap, it was just a prosthetic.”    

“A prosthetic clearly grafted to his person. You have no idea what it could have done!”

“Stopped him from attacking me. Which was kind of the point, if I’m being completely honest here. But he’s immobilized, the task force or whoever can take him away to their facility and all will be well. Should be the last we see of him on the streets. The day is saved once again thanks to Iron Man and Captain America, and all that jazz.”

The conversation was cut off when their captive groaned, rolling onto his back stiffly. It called both heroes’ attention back from their argument.

“Mmmm… where’m….? What…?” the questions came with a bewildered sense of confusion, eyes darting back and forth without focus until his gaze caught on Steve’s face. Tony frowned, the flash of alarm and almost fear that flickered there so different from the look the predatory look of just a few minutes previous. How could someone so intent on sending a fist through his chest moments before look so harmless and lost now?

As Tony opened his mouth to demand answers, the full force of police cruisers and armored containment vehicles burst onto the scene. As they pulled into a rough circle around the group, a swarm of heavily armored agents piled out of the vans, guns drawn as they fanned out to surround the Winter Soldier. They trained their guns exclusively on him. A man in a heavy leather trench coat stalked up to them.

“Commander Fury,” Steve offered formally, standing to attention before Tony could even get a quip out of his mouth. He frowned instead as Fury fixed them both in turn with a look that carried the very definition of ‘piercing’.

“Caused quite a mess here, you two,” he offered. “At least you managed to capture the bad guy. We’ll take it from here. You can both find your way home and we’ll smooth this all over.”

“But what about the Winter Soldier? His behavior towards the end of the fight was inconsistent with how I found him,” Steve protested, causing Tony to snort.

“How so? Like making you a lovely freeway ornament and nearly punching a hole through my chest?”

“No, that,” Steve indicated the now one-armed man who was currently being apprehended by a select number of the guards at hand. His head turned about, uncertain and almost afraid. As much as Tony didn’t want to admit the Captain was right, something did seem fishy about this behavior considering he’d just leveled a good portion of city in an attempt to get away from the pair.

“We’ll take it from here, Captain. And we’ll expect you both to make an appearance for debriefings at S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see if I can pencil it in.”

“Now, if you’d both please we’d like to make sure things are more smoothed over before encounters with the press. I strongly suggest a quick return home.” He fixed them once more with a one-eyed glare before turning to head back towards the van he’d just gotten out of, the matter as good as done.

* * *

 

    While the morning newspapers ran with the story, Steve didn’t find any new details about the battle in any of their articles. The front pages, instead, were plastered with images of the carnage, vivid descriptions of the battle, and a running total of the damages caused by the fight. The battle may have been won and the day may have been saved, but it had not come without cost.

    “The public’s going to want his head,” Tony responded. “A little side helping of execution to help the bitter pill of death go down.”

    “Tony!” Steve hissed in response, shooting him a dark look from across the table. They’d spent the better part of the morning in rounds of debriefing and interviews, thankfully free in the compound of SHIELD to forego their superhero identities in the company of those people they knew. Tony had been pacing the room for the past few minutes, jittery and tired of sitting still, while Steve sat at the opposite end of the table with arms folded across his chest.

    “What? Don’t tell me you’re thinking he’ll get away with all this. Because your face says just that and when you get that look on that dumb perfect face of yours it usually means you’re going to do something stupid, suicidal, or some combination of both.”

    “We can’t turn him over to the authorities because it’s not his fault. It’s clear that someone else was influencing his interactions directly. We can’t hold him accountable for that,” Steve responded. Steve wasn’t going to send a man who had been used to be punished until they at least had more answers. There was a difference between the villains they apprehended for their own schemes and those who just happened to get caught up in them. This man might not have been involved if it hadn’t been for some kind of influence.

    “Last I checked when someone holds a gun and pulls the trigger they’re guilty for whatever damage they caused regardless of whether they’re thinking of murder or pretty pink ponies, Steve,” Tony countered, stopping in his pacing to face the other man. “You’re being incredibly naive.”

    Steve wanted to bite back at that comment. In this case, the Winter Soldier was the gun of someone else pulling the trigger. He wasn’t inclined to put the guilt on something being wielded as a tool by someone else. It was that person who’d made the decision. Instead, he chose to end the argument for the time being. It wasn’t going to go anywhere.

    “We should wait for Fury before we make any decisions.”

    “Well, it’s a good thing I’m here then, isn’t it?” Fury called, the door swinging open as he let himself in. For all that the Director of SHIELD had been up as many hours as they had, if not more, dealing with their latest mission, he didn’t seem to show any sign of haggardness in his features. He stopped just short of the table before seeming to think better of it and allowing himself to find a seat in a third, vacant chair.

    “So how’s Frosty the Snowman holding up? Any dirt on him?” Tony asked, breaching the subject before Steve could even get his mouth open.

    “We do have some information regarding the Winter Soldier,” Fury responded. He pulled a small tablet from his pocket, setting it on the table. It came to life, projecting a holographic image into the space above it between the three viewers. A series of images flickered into life on the screen. The first was clearly a mugshot, likely from when he’d been brought into the facility the night before, long hair dishevelled and steel blue eyes staring defiantly at the camera amid the swaths of black kohl applied around them. There was a feralness in the gaze, like a caged animal ready to strike. Steve realized that, despite the layer of stubble on his chin, the Winter Soldier couldn’t have been much older than him. The second image,was of a young man with dark, short hair  and a clean-shaven face that still held traces of baby fat in the cheeks. It took a moment for Steve to figure out why the second man looked so familiar- the eyes were the same icy grey-blue, though coupled with a crooked smile they looked decidedly more… friendly. The similarity wasn’t lost on Steve.

    “James Buchanan Barnes,” Fury before Steve could fully form his thoughts. “Young kid, with a habit of freezing things. We had an eye on him and were ready to tap him into duty when we got reports of an accident- the Barnes family car lost control on an unusually icy road. We were led to believe that all members of the Barnes family perished in the accident.”

    “Led to believe?” Steve asked, though he was already starting to put the pieces together. Those eyes…

    “Something tells me our friend Jimmy here didn’t meet the same fate as the rest of his family,” Tony commented. “Probably took the ‘rents out on accident and couldn’t live with the guilt. Think he ran away?”

    “We’re still gathering the details,” Fury cut in, shooting both a look when Steve seemed about ready to rise out of his seat. Steve settled back in grudgingly and Tony fell silent, allowing Fury to clear his throat and continue. “But as far as we can tell he is James Barnes. All records we have match up and all tests we’ve done give us no reason to believe otherwise.”

    “So how does some kid who avoids getting killed in an accident end up squaring off with two superhero greats? I’d say it’s the dead parents, but with present company the odds go down significantly.”

    “Tony!” Steve hissed.

    “What? If I slipped up with my powers and killed my whole family, I might go off the deep end, too,” Tony protested.

    “You know damned well it’s not that simple,” Steve countered before turning to face Fury again. While he knew this was Tony’s way of dealing with difficult topics, Steve’s ability to handle it was wearing thin. He needed answers, not Tony’s quips. “Do we know anything about his motivations? Why he’s choosing to reveal himself now?”

    “That’s where things get complicated,” Fury responded. “Somebody picked up James Barnes the night of the accident, and whoever that somebody was, they didn’t want the rest of the world to know they had him.”

    The next question faltered on Steve’s lips when the door opened and Maria Hill entered the room with a clipboard in hand though her facial expression was as unreadable as ever. Steve’s attention shifted to watch her intently.

    “Sir, we have-”

    “Yes, yes I know what you have. Can we cut to the chase?” Fury waved a hand dismissively.

    “In front of them?” she asked, indicating the two heroes with a small nod of her head.

    “Do you need a special invitation?” he asked, frustration flaring in his voice and earning a brief, wide-eyed look from Maria before she was looking back down at her clipboard and regaining her composure.

    “Right. Well, the subject still exhibits little knowledge of how he came to be in the fight on the bridge with Captain America and Iron Man— er, Steve and Tony. He shows a very limited recognition and response to his name, but it’s becoming stronger as time progresses. The most recent test results have also come back showing an unknown compound in his bloodstream that we believe is the source of the enhanced abilities that seem so well matched to the Captain’s. Which brings me to the fact that the only thing he seems to remember is that he was sent after Captain America. Explains a lot.” Maria looked up after she’d finished, adjusting her grip on the clipboard now that she wasn’t reading off of it.

    “I want to talk to him,” Steve interjected, firm in his resolve. He glanced at the pictures still projected over the center of the table, wondering what had happened that had caused someone with so much potential to end up in such a situation. If he’d had anything to do with it, he wanted to face the man and find out what could be done. Steve also couldn’t help his curiosity about the man who’d been taken, and what Bucky might be like now that he’d been released from the prison of the people who’d taken him.

    “I can’t allow that,” Fury responded, shaking his head. “This man came very close to killing you, Cap. Too close. We have no guarantees he won’t try again the minute you’re in a room with him.”

    “You might learn as much about him from having him talk to me and attack as you would running all these tests,” Steve countered. “Let me talk to him.”

    “The answer is n-”

    “I say you let him do it” Tony broke in before it escalated. “ He’s restrained, isn’t he? Not like he can do much busting his brain out.”

    “I don’t recall asking for your opinion, Stark.” Fury’s tone was gruff, bristling.

    “Like that’s ever stopped him from giving it before,” Hill muttered.

    “I’m just saying Steve offers a good point. The way he reacts to him coming into the room could tell you a lot about his mental state. If you put his goal in front of him and he’s not interested? Might have a better idea of what you’re working with. If he wrings Cap’s neck, serves him right, doesn’t it? He walked in there,” Tony continued. “Besides, I’d be impressed if he could find a way to outmuscle Steve sans that metal arm of his.”

    Fury heaved a heavy sigh, annoyance rippling off him before he shook his head and slumped a little.

    “Five minutes. But if he so much flinches in your direction, you’ll move your ass out of there. Understood?” He leveled Steve with a firm look, demanding no protest.

    “Understood. Let’s go,” Steve responded, already standing from the table. He took one last look at the pair of images before the holographic projection flickered off and Fury stood as well, gesturing for him to follow.

* * *

 

   Steve was led to the interrogation room, passing the window of one-way glass as Fury brought him that way. James was alone for the moment, sitting at the single table in the room. His hair hung long and with the way he was hunched over, it marred his face from view. Someone had done him the service of tidying up the ragged edge where the metal arm had once attached to his shoulder, the silvery stump now capped with a swath of black fabric. The black tactical gear was gone, replaced instead by a bright orange prison jumpsuit. His flesh hand had been restrained to the table by a thick metal contraption much stronger than the average handcuff. Steve did not miss the frosted swirls of ice that crept along the edges of the glass or the way his breath came out in visible puffs despite his head being bent low over the table.

    The cold hit him like a brick as soon as Fury swept his key card and opened the thick door. There was a whoosh (he shouldn’t have been surprised they sealed the room off) followed by a blast of frigid air as the lack of seal allowed the cold to escape outwards. Steve shivered involuntarily before a firm nod of Nick’s head directed him into the room.

    “Five minutes,” he reminded gruffly as Steve stepped past, and then the door was sliding shut behind him once again, another hiss of air serving to alert him that the airlock had once again been sealed.

    James didn’t look at him until Steve put a hand on the chair across from where he sat. As soon as his hand touched the cooled plastic the other man’s head shot up, eyes honing in on Steve almost immediately. The dark that had lined his eyes the night before when they had engaged had all but faded away, leaving traces more grey than black in their wake. The smudges themselves had become less defined, running down lower on his cheeks. The wildness in his gaze had diminished some, replaced instead by cool wariness— he regarded Steve as if _he_ might be the one to attack. The iciness was reflected not just in the color of his eyes but also in the way they tracked him until he’d seated himself in the chair.

    “So you’re James?” Steve asked, trying to break the ice (no pun intended).

    “Bucky,” the other responded back in a low, almost-growl. “I was called Bucky, I think.” The confidence in the first assertion was rapidly replaced with uncertainty, the harshness  melting from his face with it.

    “Well, Bucky, I can see why you wouldn’t want that to get around. People might not be so afraid of you if they knew the Winter Soldier’s friends called him Bucky,” Steve offered, lip quirking up into a warmer smile, eyes dancing with the attempt at ribbing.

    “Not _them_ ,” Bucky assured, the same churlish confidence abruptly back. Steve had to bite back wanting to ask who the “them” was. Bucky seemed to debate offering more explanation for a moment, lips parted just slightly, before he appeared to change his mind and regarded Steve carefully in the silence that fell. It didn’t take long for Steve to realize he wasn’t getting more.

    “Not very fond of them?” he finally decided on asking. It was a small breach into the subject of this ‘them’, but for all that it appeared they were connected to the life Bucky must have lived before being captured, he didn’t seem to have positive feelings towards them.

    “I’m… not sure. I don’t know,” Bucky responded. Steve’s heart twinged at the way he seemed to struggle over the words, brow furrowing as he tried to conjure up some memory only for it to seem to slip away. Whatever those people had done to him, Steve was beginning to feel it had more sinister roots. If Bucky had signed on willingly, there would be no need for the gaps in memory… “I know you all want information, but I’ve told them and I’ll tell you that I don’t have it. I don’t remember anything other than my last orders— to come after Captain America.”

    “You’re not trying to go after him now. Do you know why?” Steve responded.

    “I… I don’t know. Why I’m not, I mean. It just doesn’t feel… right, and I can’t place why.” Bucky’s face was quizzical again, lost and still grasping for straws. The look was so genuinely honest that Steve found himself hard-pressed to question it. “I’m not going to kill him. I don’t want  to kill anyone.”

    “Well there are a bunch of people who saw you go after Captain America and display no concern for the people who got in the way. They’re going to ask questions,Bucky  and I don’t think they’re going to be okay with ‘I don’t knows’.”

    “What’d I do?” he asked, voice going quiet and his face molding into something pained and guilt-ridden.

    “I’m starting to get the idea that you didn’t have control over your actions, which means that none of this is your fault,” Steve responded, voice softening as he tried to appease the man. Bucky certainly didn’t seem convinced, however. He moved his arm as if he was going to wring his hands together, only to abruptly remember that his left arm was gone.

    “Yeah, but-”

    “You’re not attacking me, now, either,” Steve cut off.

    “You? Why would I attack you?” Bucky asked him, confusion painting its way across the grief.

    “Well, I was your target.” Steve responded, figuring now was as good a time as any to tell him. He was confident the other wouldn’t attack, but this would give Bucky a strong point in his favor with the others currently watching their conversation. The confusion lingered on his face for a few moments longer before realization sank in and his eyes widened in shock at Steve’s revelation.

    “You? You’re my mission?” The words came out somewhere between distraught and disbelieving.

    “Yes, me,” he responded. “But you can call me Steve if you want.”

    “I tried to kill you.” He paused for a moment, the cogs still working. “Why?” The disbelief morphed into distress as his hand clenched. For a moment, Steve wondered if he had miscalculated in giving him this information. Maybe whatever Bucky  had been through, whatever had been done to him, was stronger than the man who had seemed present the rest of the conversation. Steve tried to appear calm but the whole of him was buzzing with new awareness, ready to defend against whatever might come his way.

    “Why am I here?” Steve asked, watching him but keeping his voice light. “Because it’s only fair you get a chance to tell your side of the story, and it’s only fair that I get to face the guy who attacked me and ask him why.”

    “You’re a whole lot more reasonable than most people’d be,” Bucky offered, a small chuckle pulling a bare, almost sad, smile onto his face. With it, however, came an exhaustion, a tiredness that shouldn’t have been present on someone so young, and yet Steve was sure it was mirrored in his own.

    Steve had been about to offer a comment in response, his own laughter just finding its way to his lips, when the door to the interrogation room slid open and Nick allowed himself back in. The genuine openness on Bucky’s face cut off abruptly, the wariness back in an instant as his eyes trained on Fury.

    “Your five minutes are up,” Fury commented to Steve before looking over at Bucky. “Mr. Barnes, someone will be along to take you to better accommodations shortly. We don’t make our guests sleep chained to desks.”

    Steve made himself stand, reluctant to leave when they’d seemed to just be scratching the surface of whatever had gone on with James. He knew there were others, trained others, who would be in to talk to Bucky  shortly, but that didn’t make it any easier. It certainly didn’t help that his movement towards the door was tracked by a pair of stormy grey eyes.

    “I’ll be back to visit you soon, Bucky. I promise.” Steve vowed this would not be the last he saw of the man.

  

* * *

 

   The coming flurry of appointments and briefings with James Buchanan Barnes, coupled with the Herculean effort put into the recovery of files, reports, and other related pieces of information saw the story of the Winter Soldier unfold over the weeks that followed his capture. The details that Fury had given them proved true and from there it was only a small amount of time before they were able to begin filling in the hazy details of what had happened to the young man since the night of the accident that had claimed the lives of the rest of his family.

    Someone had been watching— a someone they still hadn’t figured out who as of yet. Whether that someone had simply watched from afar, observing as the young man had grown and developed his powers without initiating contact or had taken on a much more hands-on approach to grooming the then high school student into just what they wanted was still unknown. Any attempts to finds links in Bucky’s past had been thwarted by the hazy fog that seemed to have wrapped itself around the young man’s memory, clouding any attempts to break past it. Whoever they had been, it became rapidly clear that they had played a heavy hand in the “accident” that had sent the Barnes’ family car careening down an icy road and into a turn it never completed.

    The arm, as far as they could guess, was a solution to the damage that had been sustained in the crash- a metal appendage to replace what must have been a grievously damaged arm before they had retrieved Bucky from the wreckage. It had been grafted onto his left shoulder in a way that was both seamless and disjointed, sculpted in such a way that it hardly differed in conformation from the flesh shoulder though it was impossible to ignore the jagged scarring that marked the point where silvery metal met flesh. With only the shoulder piece intact, the rest having been destroyed in the repulsor blast used to defeat  the Winter Soldier, it was almost impossible to guess at the full capabilities of the arm. The footage from the battle, however, made it seem like something even Stark Industries hadn’t conceived of just yet. The jagged edges had been capped with a black sleeve of sorts, a small comfort since they made no moves to figure out a replacement.

    Where the arm bore the most intense of the scarring, the rest of James’ body showed the results of years of intense and dangerous physical activity. Scars littered his chest and torso, finding their way onto sections of his arm and legs. The outward scars seemed small in comparison to the additional modifications— traces of chemical compounds, cocktails of drugs and serums, coursed through his veins as a testament to just what had been pumped into the young enhanced to give him the gifts of another. Whatever they had done to him had warped the natural course of what James Buchanan Barnes might once have been. The serum had not robbed him of his own cryokinetic powers, but it had forced the adoption of a set of skills not naturally his own—  speed, stamina, strength, and an increased healing factor among other things. It remained unclear if, free of the people exerting control over his mind, he was even equipped to properly control the additional gifts.

    It was the psychiatric evaluations that had served to further emphasize this point, if not offering much else. When asked about the events that led to his capture, the only response that James could give was that he had been sent to eliminate Captain America. The further away from the incident and breaking out  of the brainwashing, however, the more the pieces began to fit together. They had designed him to stand on even ground with Captain America— juiced him up with powers only after they had decided that he was their target. The cycle of torture and mind-wiping they had used had left him uncertain of their identities as much as his own, but the conversations proved fruitless in giving them much information on where to look for those who had been pulling the strings behind the attack. What it did leave them with was a young man not only struggling with his abrupt return to reality, but an enhanced with a whole host of relatively new powers and little to no experience in controlling them.

 

* * *

 

    “He’s still struggling,” Agent Hill offered, standing next to Steve as they watched a technician attempt to run Barnes through a training exercise through a one way mirror.

    “And we’re supposed to be surprised by that?” Steve asked, irritation flickering in his voice, arms crossed over his chest. “He’s just snapped back to himself for the first time in years, found out he’s been forcibly injected with new powers, and Tony blew off the metal arm that he doesn’t even remember getting. I’d be more surprised if he wasn’t struggling.”

    “Steve-”

    “And what are we doing to help with that? We’ve got him caged like an animal.”

    “You know that we can’t let him leave when he’s like this,” Hill responded, tone mostly even save for a small lilt of concern. “He wouldn’t be able to look after himself. He has no idea how to keep his powers in check as it is and we have enough people breathing down our backs about the whole bridge incident to begin with.”

    “Keeping him locked up like this isn’t helping any. If anything, it’s probably making the stress worse, Maria,” Steve responded, pulling his eyes away from the training room as Bucky fell to his knees again, knocked off balance by a maneuver that might have been completed if he wasn’t learning to adjust to only having one arm. “Give him a mentor or something, but we owe him the chance at freedom.”

    “He’s still responsible for a lot of damage, Steve,” Maria responded with a sigh. “And it’s not as if we’ve got a line of heroes waiting to mentor a potentially dangerous former villain who doesn’t know how to control his powers.”

    “I’ll take him,” Steve’s voice was firm with his decision.

    “Steve, you can’t be serious.” Maria’s usually level voice broke with hints of shock, her gaze focusing on him.

    “His powers— the new ones at least- are supposed to mirror mine, aren’t they? Well, why can’t I take him in? It’ll give him a chance to readjust, and maybe getting out of this prison will do him some good. And if it doesn’t? I’m gonna be the guy who’s called to bring him back in anyway.” Steve felt resolute in voicing this out loud, a glance over his shoulder confirming it as Bucky pulled himself up from his knees to keep working through the training exercise.

    “He does react more positively when you are around...” Hill provided in turn, her voice skeptical even as she read through the newest report stacked onto her clipboard. “Though you’d have to convince Fury and the Council that his placement with you is best. You know they’re talking about calling for a registration of all enhanced, don’t you? Think about what you’re agreeing to before you stake your ability to work on helping him.”

    “And let him live the rest of his life in a cage while other people decide what’s best for him?”

    “It may _be_ what’s best for him,” Fury’s voice cut in as he joined them near the glass. His expression, as usual, was nigh unreadable even as he gave a cursory glance and grunt over what was happening in the training room. “And it may not matter what’s best for him when the world is at stake. We strike a very dangerous balance here, Cap, and that balance has been upset due in no small part to that man.” Fury indicated Bucky with a nod of his head though his focus had now shifted to Steve.

“It wasn’t his fault.” Steve’s voice was firm. “Whoever took him captive, whoever warped his mind to their whims, they’re the ones at fault. He shouldn’t have to suffer for them while they’re out running free. It won’t stop it from happening again.” He couldn’t stand by and let Bucky sit in prison. He could only imagine what it might feel like to be stuck there, but he couldn’t believe Bucky would ever heal when those around him looked at him as something caged and dangerous, ready to attack.

“We can’t be certain he won’t run back to them the minutes he’s free of these facilities,” Fury responded with a sigh that spoke to his own growing irritation.

“That’s why you don’t send him alone,” Steve responded. “If he’s not working for them, he has a mentor and someone to help him readjust to life outside and his powers. If he is, I’ll bring him back to you and you can take care of him.”

“The Council won’t like it,” Fury responded, neither confirming nor denying Steve’s proposal. Steve held back a snort at the comment— the Council may not have liked it but Steve doubted this would be the first time Fury would go against something they liked. He certainly hadn’t given up on it yet.

“They’d probably like a breakout far less.”

“Are you threatening me?” Nick Fury’s voice turned icy for a moment as he regarded Steve carefully, and Steve knew he needed to tread cautiously in that moment. They stood in tense silence for a moment before Fury’s gaze drifted back to the training room. The guard in charge of Bucky’s “recreation time” was calling the day to a close. Bucky, though panting and clearly exhausted, seemed reluctant to return to his cell. “The Council meets in two days. I’d ask you not to do anything stupid between now and then.”

Steve didn’t get a chance to respond before Fury left, leaving him once more with only Maria, the training room ahead of them emptying as Bucky was shuffled off. There was a brief moment where, despite the one-way glass, his cold grey eyes seemed to seek something out on their side of the room. Bucky only paused for a brief moment before he was nudged along by the guards to return to his cell.

“So, Steve, will we see you tomorrow?” Maria asked. “Barnes has been asking if you’ll be joining him for training again.”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve responded, momentarily distracted by the now closed and darkening training room before he turned back to Maria and followed her out of the observation room.

* * *

 

   The Council’s acceptance came as a surprise, with little warning or fanfare. Steve came home one day to find the packet stuffed in his mailbox. Not wanting to be alone when he opened it, he’d waited until a later meeting with Tony to open it.

    “Married?!” Steve spluttered. The words on the page seemed like some kind of _joke_ , not the details of him agreeing to house and watch over a reforming enhanced.

    “How’d you think they were going to spin it, Cap?” Tony quipped. “Looks like Buckaroo just became part of your secret identity.”

    “They couldn’t think of anything else?”

    “How else do you explain you two shacking up? Had to make it convincing somehow.” For all of Steve’s exasperation over it, Tony seemed unperturbed and just a little bit gleeful.

    “Married, though? Isn’t that a little bit overboard?”

    “I don’t write ‘em,” Tony responded, hands up in a gesture of helplessness. “But this thing you’ve got? With you agreeing to house him and look after him? It does have a certain romantic flair to it, you know? I don’t blame them for mining the gold you’re giving them just by being your impressively… generous self.” Tony patted Steve’s shoulder after giving him a once over. “Good luck with Buck Rogers there. Have a lovely honeymoon and tell me where to send the engagement gift!”

    With that, Tony retreated hastily through the door to call their meeting to a close before Steve could even muster a response.

* * *

 

    The unexpected came not the day they moved into their shared apartment, fresh with the constructed story of a newly-wed couple, the accident that had cost Bucky his arm, and the recovery that had brought them together. It didn’t come in those first awkward days together when they were forced to navigate around each other, two near strangers who were meant to convince the world they loved each other. And it did not come in the struggles as Steve tried to help Bucky navigate control of the newfound abilities he’d been given.

    It came, instead, in the political strain that broke out in the weeks that followed the Council’s decision.

    The battle between Iron Man, Captain America, and the Winter Soldier had caused a considerable amount of damage, but it was far from the only incident where battles between enhanced heroes and villains had resulted in significant damage and casualties. A fight between a mercenary and a psychic hero had left a building in ruins, twenty-two people injured and thirteen dead. Another altercation had left no less than three major highways unusable for days in the wake of a superhero team’s efforts to capture their shape-shifting nemesis. The list went on, and with each event the tension between enhanced and lawmaker grew.

    And then it happened.

    “We appreciate the service our enhanced heroes have given us over the years,” General Thaddeus Ross proclaimed in a press conference on the steps of the Capitol. “But the benefits of their service have become outweighed by the heavy cost in life and resources. This is why we are calling for enhanced individuals to adopt their civilian identities as their _only_ identities. Secretary Pierce and I want to assure them that once the law goes into effect, we do have measures in place to help ease their transition. All enhanced will be signed on to the Enhanced Relocation Program, which will help them to find their new place in society.” General Ross fell silent for a moment, allowing for the smattering of applause from the crowd there. “I will now turn over the podium to Nicholas J. Fury, who will be heading up this new program as its first director... “

* * *

 

    They watched the press conference from the couch of their apartment, sitting nervously on either end, tense with the dismantling of the only lives they’d known. Bucky turned to Steve, the room going frigid as the panic filled his eyes.

    “It’s okay,” Steve offered, closing the distance between them and placing a hand on his shoulder. His voice was calm, even if he didn’t feel it. Anger and indignation burned in his core that they felt the best option to protect was… no protection at all. And to be headed up by Fury, who had pulled the strings on their involvement for years? Betrayal burned and festered in his chest.

    “Relocation, Steve?” Bucky asked, brow furrowing as if he’d mulled over more words but couldn’t quite figure out what to say.

    “They won’t separate us,” he responded. “The Council approved this, _Fury_ approved this. I’m not going to let them go back on that.” For all the uncertainty Steve felt, that was one thing he could say with certainty— he wouldn’t let Bucky end up on his own because of all this.

    “I don’t know if I’m worth that fight, Steve,” Bucky responded quietly, the chill lingering in the air as he looked away.

    “You’ve been through enough, Buck,” Steve offered in return, stroking his shoulder. “I’m not going to let them force you out on your own.”

 

* * *

 

    They applied to the Enhanced Relocation Program– what other choice did they have?‒ waiting for their answers with baited breath until, one day, there was a knock at the door.

    “Can I come in?” Fury asked, eyebrow quirked as a suspicious Steve stood in the doorframe for a few tense moments before he finally stepped aside. Bucky watched Fury warily from the doorframe of the kitchen, the timer on the oven blaring unnoticed in the background.

    “As you can probably tell, I’m here about your applications to the Enhanced Relocation Program,” Fury offered with a cursory glance at Steve, the apartment, and then over to Bucky. “I trust you two can find the time?”

    Bucky went back into the kitchen, earning a small grunt from Fury before the oven was silenced, replaced with the sounds of hasty activity. Steve watched Bucky  disappear into the kitchen before indicating with a nod of his head the small table set up for meals.

    “Water?” Steve asked.

    “No, thank you,” Fury waved it off with another, almost impatient, look towards the kitchen. “I won’t be here long.”

    When Bucky resurfaced he slid into the seat next to Steve silently, body tense with wariness as he focused on the director. Steve reached over and held out his hand, uncertain if Bucky would accept the gesture but wanting to show him that they were a united front. Bucky’s eyes flicked towards him for a moment and he slid his hand across the table to take Steve’s. The feeling of Bucky’s hand in his own brought a warm feeling into his chest, proud of the united front they presented now.

    “So,” Steve started, giving Bucky’s hand a squeeze. “Our applications?”

    “The Council deliberated a long time over you,” Fury started, voice unreadable. “Putting two enhanced individuals under the same roof, especially one who is already flagged with concerns about his ability to integrate… It’s not something the Council is entirely comfortable with--”

    “The Council _agreed_ — ” Steve started, already bristling, only to be cut off by a hand from Fury.

    “But, they had already established the conditions to Barnes’ ability to leave the compound to begin with, restrictions which both you and Barnes have followed to the ‘t’ since they were put in place,” Fury continued only after Steve had settled, still visibly fuming. Bucky ran a thumb over the back of his hand, trying to dispel his own anxiety by soothing Steve’s anger. “They realize that splitting you up would require them to take Barnes back into custody.”

    “Over my dea-”

    “Steve!” Bucky cut him off with an insistent plea. “Let him finish.” The blonde looked like he was going to continue fighting until Bucky fixed him with a firm look. He caved with a sigh, mouth drawn tight as he faced Fury again, eyes expectant and still flashing his irritation.

    “Now, if I could _finish_ ,” Fury started again, leveling his own glare back at Steve. “The Council ultimately agreed that it was best to keep Barnes with a mentor. Since that is already assured by the terms of our agreement, they have decided to accept your applications to stay as you are on the grounds that you, as with all enhanced, refrain from using your powers or exposing yourselves. Congratulations, Barnes, Rogers, you are now the Barnes-Rogers family.”

    “Family?” Bucky asked, frowning at the statement.

    “Another contingent. Since you are one of the rare pairs that are both enhanced, there is the distinct possibility that you will be tapped when orphans displaying powers might need a home, considering the current arrangement negates the likelihood of separation. You are uniquely suited to helping young enhanced individuals learn to deal with their powers,” Fury explained, keeping his tone even.

    “So you can just hoist kids on us?” Steve’s tone was unamused.

    “Do you have a problem with that, Captain Rogers?” Fury’s gaze shifted directly to him, resulting in a tense few minutes passing between them. Steve finally heaved an irritated sigh and looked away.

    “No,” he responded. He wouldn’t risk sending Bucky back to the compound on a battle he knew he’d lose— especially when the thought of kids wasn’t entirely unappealing. He’d always hoped it was in the plan some day, just not like this.

    “Your official documentation is here,” Fury offered, pushing a heavy envelope across the table. “The details of your work placements are in there and you’ll begin a week from Monday. Prepare yourselves.”

    His news delivered, Fury stood up from his seat and left the apartment  without another word.

    A week from Monday, Steven and James Rogers-Barnes started their first day of work in the real world and their life under the ERP . They moved into a tiny little house in the next town over, and everything seemed peaceful for a time.


	2. We're Supposed to Help Our People! Starting With Our Stockholders!

Working for Hammer Industries was one of the worst jobs that the Enhanced Relocation Office had managed to find Steve in the years he’d been involved. When Fury had first handed him the placement card for his new job, Steve had entertained the possibility that they had placed him there to be an eye inside the company. The company was infamous for their host of questionable practices and shady ethics. He had hoped that maybe, _finally_ , they were putting him in a position where he could do _something_ about injustices in the world, even if it was just feeding the information back so others could step in. It was the only reason, Steve believed, that the ERO would be willing to seek employment for one of their own in a company run by a man who seemed ready to step on the backs of others to achieve success.

That hope had been brutally dashed mere moments later when Fury had fixed him with a one-eyed laser stare and warned him that under no uncertain circumstances was he supposed to try any ‘funny business.’ While Fury hadn’t defined funny business, it had been clear enough that there would be hell to pay if Steve did anything that might jeopardize his placement there. Steve had well and truly hit rock bottom in terms of Relocation placement. With three children at home and Bucky unable to be placed in a job of his own, Steve had been forced to live with it.

So Steve took the placement card, ducked his head, and reported to Hammer Industries diligently each day to sit in an office and facilitate the exhausting work of Human Relations. Instead of working as a hero, protecting people and solving global catastrophes, Steve would be handling petty office disputes between co-workers and complaints over requests for vacation.

“Mr. Rogers, we have a complaint,” the secretary’s monotone filtered over the intercom. Steve heaved a sigh, dragging a hand over his face. He braced himself for another unpleasant conversation, tried to steel himself against the onslaught of a disgruntled employee who likely had the conflict management skills of a toddler. He tried not to think about the fact that he had once settled much larger conflicts much more successfully.

“Send them up,” he responded, barely measuring his voice into something ‘calm’ and ‘welcoming’ as he waited for the disgruntled employee to make their way to his office.

An hour later, Steve was ushering a placated coworker out of his office feeling both relieved and exhausted all at once. He wasn’t certain how long he’d bought peace for them, but being able to help them navigate the complex system that assigned vacation had allowed him to shuffle them out of the office for the next week. It felt like a small victory - giving someone a brief reprieve from the competitive and underhanded environment that permeated Hammer Industries. The small flicker of joy, however, had all but melted by the time Steve had closed the door to his office and returned to his desk. He slumped heavily into his seat, trying to stave off the familiar feeling of despair.

A sigh had barely left Steve’s lips when his cellphone buzzed in his pocket. Bucky’s name flashed across the screen along with the picture of him with Wanda, Pietro, and Peter the day they’d brought Peter home with them as he pulled his phone out. He slid his thumb across the screen to answer it.

“Buck?” His voice came out an odd mix of concerned and weighed with the day’s frustrations despite his best efforts to hide them.

“Hey, Steve,” Bucky’s voice was so filled with joy that he didn’t seem to notice Steve’s mixed greeting. “You’ll never guess what Peter did today.” There was warm pride in his voice, the kind that he knew Bucky would vehemently deny later but seemed capable of pulling the other out of his funk.

“I dunno, Buck, did he develop powers?” Steve asked, just slightly teasing.

“Christ, I hope not,” Bucky responded. “He’s supposed to be the _normal_ one.”

“Are you saying our other kids are abnormal?”

“No!” Bucky’s voice was rapidly morphing with exasperation. He spluttered for a moment before heaving a frustrated sigh. “You know what I meant.”

“I’m only teasing you, Buck,” Steve offered, a small smile starting to tug at his lips despite his placating tone. “What did Pete do today?”

“He said his first word today, Steve.” The pride was back in an instant, brimming so much in Bucky’s voice that Steve could picture the wide grin he had to be wearing in that moment.

“Oh really?” he asked, excitement beginning to filter into his own voice, smile widening in spite of his earlier mood.

“Ma! Mama! Mama!” The infant’s voice broke through from the background before Bucky could say anymore, followed by a peal of laughter as Peter reacted to his own ability to speak. There were the muffled sounds of Bucky’s praise before he could hear the shuffling as Bucky came back on the line.

“Did you hear him?” Bucky asked, his tone so hopeful it was cute.

“Mama?” Steve asked, biting back laughter. In Bucky’s moment of swelling pride he had seemed to completely overlook his usual aversion to being referred to as “the mother” of any of their three children.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, annoyance only coloring his voice a shade where he might normally have been livid. “I’m sure we have Pietro to thank for that one, which I will be having a talk with him about later… But he’s talking, Steve.” Even the slight traces of irritation disappeared as Bucky’s glowing over the phone devolved into a string of gibberish. The sounds were clearly directed at Peter instead of him judging by the resulting giggles.

“Buck, I need to get back to work. I’ll see you both tonight,” Steve offered, though he was reluctant to get off the phone. The day had been mundane and frustrating, where even the few moments on the phone had brought a renewed sense of brightness.

“I should be getting ready to pick up Wanda and Pietro anyway,” Bucky offered with a small sigh in return, though his mood didn’t seem dampened. “Try not to get too enamored with the office, okay? I’ll see you tonight.”

“I’ll do my best,” Steve offered, chuckling. “Bye, Buck.” He hung up the phone to the sounds of Peter squealing. It only made the silence of his office that much more stifling. The affectionate happiness he’d felt listening to Bucky coo over their son faded far too quickly when faced with the bleakness of the rest of his work day.

The silence only lasted a few moments before the secretary was ringing him again, sending a conflict about a stolen red stapler his way.

* * *

 

Steve opened the door to be greeted with the aromas of dinner drifting through the house. After spending an hour trying to get two grown adults to open up about a feud over office supplies, the rush-hour traffic had only sapped him further of energy. He was exhausted, but the prospect of being home with his family brought at least a small bit of energy back.

“Mama!” Peter’s voice squealed from the kitchen. Steve placed his briefcase and shoes by the door, making his way to where the kids were gathered. Bucky was in the midst of stirring something on the stove while Wanda prepared the plates around a sleeping Pietro. Peter, sitting in his high chair and waving his arms energetically, appeared to be vying with dinner for Bucky’s attention.

“Good evening,” he offered warmly, slipping one arm around Bucky’s waist so he could draw close and kiss him on the cheek. While the marriage had been something forced upon them, seven years had made it easy for Steve to ease into the idea of ‘couple.’ Even when Wanda and Pietro had been added to the charade two years after it began, the wily eleven-year-olds had only cemented the idea of family. Peter had been the first Council-approved choice they’d made together, the adoption bringing their family up to five.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Bucky offered in return, seeming to sink against Steve for a moment. “It’s nothing special.”

“You always say that,” Steve responded with a chuckle. “Yet you seem to pull out new recipes regularly.”

“Shouldn’t be that surprising with how much time he has,” Pietro commented from the table, picking his head up. Bucky stood up straighter at that, scowling.

“You’re welcome to prepare your own meals, Pietro,” Bucky shot back. “That’s what attitude is going to get you.”

“Pietro,” Steve stepped in, voice firm. “That’s no way to speak to your father.” Steve knew that Pietro and Bucky’s relationship didn’t always run the smoothest course, but every so often the jabs went just a bit too far.

“You should both sit down,” Wanda commented to them. “He can’t cook with you hanging on him, and I already told him I’d finish dinner.”

“Wanda, you don’t have to do that,” Bucky protested. “I’m perfectly capable of-”

“She’s trying to help,” Steve offered, wrapping his arms tighter around the other’s middle to pull him away from the stove. “Let her, Buck.”

“If you guys are going to be gross, please at least go into another room,” Pietro groaned from the table. Peter burst into a fit of giggles, though whether at the statement or something else was uncertain.

“Watch your brother while Wanda finishes,” Bucky responded, fixing Pietro with a stern look. He pulled away from Steve long enough to give Peter a kiss on the forehead.

“Mama! Ama!” Peter offered in response, very nearly tangling a chubby fist in Bucky’s hair before he stood upright, indicating for Steve to lead him out.

“How was your day?” Bucky asked as they headed into the hallway. “Hammer still an asshole?”

“I didn’t have to see him today,” Steve responded, lip quirking upwards in an almost smile. “Which I’ll consider a small victory.”

“I wish they hadn’t saddled you with that job.” Bucky’s sigh was heavy, though it was a discussion they’d had before. Steve knew Bucky didn’t like the job anymore than he did, and it only frustrated him more each time Steve came home with another story about Hammer. “Stark couldn’t have given you a job?”

“They won’t put me at Stark Industries because they’re worried Tony and I’ll break the ERA,” Steve responded. Which he’d already done a whopping four times. It was that reason alone that had left him working under Hammer, the last of the places willing to take him. Steve liked to believe Hammer had accepted his resume because he liked keeping desperate cases under his thumb.

“So they went with the arguably worse option?” Bucky asked, not convinced. Steve knew he wasn’t fond of Tony, but it didn’t compare to the animosity he seemed to feel towards Hammer. They’d only met briefly, when Steve’s car had been in the shop and Bucky had picked him up from work. The look Hammer had given Bucky with his unkempt hair and missing arm had been nothing short of scornful and it had only been their quick exit that had kept Bucky from saying something. Steve hated the man, but with the job being their only income he’d been forced to swallow most of his indignation.

“Buck, you know there’s nothing we can do about it,” Steve offered, trying to put the argument to rest. “My day was uneventful. How was yours?”

The indignation on Bucky’s face morphed into a warm, proud smile in a matter of moments. It was this glow that Steve had been hoping for, and it made his heart swell with feelings he’d tried not to dwell too deeply on when they’d started taking root.

“You know how mine was,” Bucky offered with an exaggerated roll of his eyes despite the smile on his face. “Peter said his first word. We’ve been trying for months and he spills it out while I’m driving home from dropping the kids off. Couldn’t even be mad Pietro taught him to call me Mom.”

“Aw, Buck. Don’t cry on me,” Steve offered, grinning at him in response. Steve was proud himself, but the scowl Bucky sent his way was almost worth the teasing.

“Oh, stop it!” Bucky growled, looking about ready to swat him. Steve laughed, pulling him in closer to sneak a kiss. Bucky seemed to melt into it for a moment before he pulled back.

“You’re not getting off that easy, Rogers,” he responded. Bucky’s face clouded for a moment and Steve wasn’t exactly sure how to read it. It was one of the moments when, despite how much the lines had faded on their relationship, the walls came back up. Steve knew Bucky occupied a warm space in his heart, but sometimes it was difficult to figure out where they stood. “Go change before dinner. I’m going to make sure Peter’s got a clean diaper.”

“Alright, alright,” Steve offered, mustering the good-natured grin.

“Dinner will be ready in five minutes,” Bucky responded, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before he slipped back into the kitchen. Steve watched after him for a moment, finding himself torn by the accompanying wave of affection.

Those were questions for another time.

By the time he came out in a fresh set of clothing, Bucky had deposited Peter back into his high chair and was helping Wanda set the food out on the table.

“Come on, Mom,” Pietro was in the midst of protesting. “Just let me go to the tryouts at least. I know how to control it.”

“It’s not ‘Mom’,” Bucky responded, though Steve could see the lines of tension that went into keep his voice from a growl. Bucky had never been fond of the title Pietro had bestowed on him, especially not when it was used in argument. “And we’ve been over this before. I know you think you can control your powers well enough, but if people even _suspect,_ they’ll be watching you. Do you want the ERP people to come in?”

It was an argument Pietro had been having for weeks with Bucky, since he’d refused to even consider the possibility of summer practices with the team. Steve and Bucky had gone over the idea together, but Bucky hadn’t been willing to take the risk with the scrutiny they were already under.

“You know they’ll blame me,” Bucky had said that night as they’d talked it over before bed. “I don’t want him to get dragged through that—them casting him as on a bad path because he’s tied to me.”

“Buck, you aren’t-”

“But they still look at me like one. It’s fine, Steve.” Bucky had stopped his protests before he could even begin. “I just don’t want that for Pietro if I can help it. Any of them. Which is why I think it’s best not to tempt fate.”

Steve hadn’t been able to argue with Bucky’s fears, knowing full well the Council that ran the ERP had been clear with him about his own station.

Pietro clearly hadn’t come around yet.

“You know what people think is weird? That Wanda and I don’t get involved with things we actually like,” Pietro protested. “We’d look more normal if we got involved instead of loading up at the end of school each day like we don’t want to.”

Wanda gave Pietro a look over the table, one that said clearly she didn’t want to be drawn into this. Pietro had always been the more social of the two, with Wanda much happier to do things on her own.

“Why don’t we save the talk about track for later,” Steve interjected with a firm look Pietro’s direction. The teen scowled, but consented. “Now my day was uneventful, but I’m guessing neither of yours was. So why don’t we start there?”

As food was passed out around the table, Pietro consented to the new line of conversation and launched into a story about how Mr. Barton, their gym teacher, had nearly used a student as a stand during their archery lesson until Principal Morita had walked by and put a stop to that. As the teens opened up about their day at school, Steve found himself settling in happily with his family. For all the work was terrible, and he missed the days of more meaningful work, it made it sting far less to come home to this.

* * *

 

“Mr. Rogers, Mr. Hammer would like to see you immediately,” the secretary drawled in a monotone.

“Coming,” he offered with a sigh, good feelings effectively sapped by the promise of another unpleasant meeting with his the big boss himself.

Steve had only just left when an alarm in the building started to blare. It didn’t trigger the whole system, signalling it was probably something isolated to a single lab, but it was enough to catch his attention. If someone was hurt, they might need help getting them out of the building. The meeting with Hammer effectively forgotten, Steve walked straight past the hallway that would lead him to the CEO’s office in favor of making his way towards the labs and the source of the alarm. It wasn’t often that the alarms went off, which meant that something bad might be happening. H needed to ensure that it didn’t.

It didn’t take long to find the source of the blaring once he was on the floor where the labs were located. While sirens blared up and down the hallway, warning lights flashing to alert the complex of the impending danger. The lights outside the doors stood unblinking barring one room about halfway down the hallway. Angry red flashed over that doorway, and while for many it might have been a sign to turn away and avoid the lab entirely, for Steve it served as a beacon, beckoning him towards the threat. If the lab went into lockdown there might be innocent people stuck inside until things were cleared. _If_ things were cleared. He’d heard enough nasty rumors about Hammer programming the labs’ security measures to wipe the insides entirely and knew enough of Hammer to believe that those might carry truth. He wasn’t about to leave it to that chance, not when innocent people could be hurt.

“Hey, HR Guy, what are you doing down here?” Steve very nearly froze in his tracks at the familiar arrogant drawl - Hammer. Whirling back to face his boss and CEO, Steve noted Hammer’s path - towards the stairs and away from the labs. Whatever he’d been doing, it didn’t seem he planned on sticking around and he certainly didn’t appear happy to see Steve.

“There might be people in there. I figured I would check to see if anyone needed help,” he responded, the impatience wavering in his voice. Every moment they lingered here, someone stood a greater chance of being in danger.

“Look, we do dangerous work here and everyone knows that,” Hammer responded, rolling his shoulders in a shrug of sorts, unfazed. “What’s important is we protect our product and hope that authorities don’t poke around too much when they come in. That’d be unfortunate.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, heaving a sigh that was entirely concerned for himself and none for the possible people in the lab ahead.

Steve couldn’t handle a moment longer of Hammer’s arrogance and lack of regard. He turned away, taking steps down the hallway without another word.

“Woah, woah, woah, Rogers, hey! You can’t just do that!” Hammer called after him, quick footfalls following him down the hallway before a weight pressed against his chest, a hand pushing him back. “We’ve got product in there. Millions of dollars worth! If you go in there now, we might lose all of it!”

“Product can be replaced. People can’t.” Steve’s response came through gritted teeth, fists clenching at his sides.

“What? You mean scientists like those in there? We can find another dozen of them on any grad school campus across the country!” Hammer exclaimed, gesturing wildly towards the door.

He’d barely finished when Steve shouldered past him, jaw set as he made his way towards the door. The locks were secure, yes, but not something that he couldn’t handle. Now closer to the door, he could hear the sounds of people inside, pounding on the door - trying to gain attention of someone who could help.

“Rogers!” Hammer barked, his tone akin to someone disciplining an errant dog. It made Steve bristle further. He made it to the lab door, three panicked faces greeting him from the other side amidst the flashing lights. “Fired! If you do that, you’re fired!”

The words hit more heavily than the should have, rage interrupted by a coil of guilt in his gut. His job. His _last chance_. If he lost this one, Fury had made it clear he wouldn’t get help again. He paused, hands on the door to the lab, eyes momentarily averted from the people inside.

“That’s right,” Hammer responded, smiling. “Wouldn’t want to lose this job, would you? Not with three kids at home. What would you tell your spouse? Now come back over here, and we’ll hope this isn’t a big enough stir to stop us up for weeks sorting through the fallout.” Hammer pointed at the spot next to him, bringing him to heel.

Any consideration for Hammer’s threat flew out the window in the wrath that settled at his gloating. Steve turned to the door, slotting his hand into the handle of the door without another word to Hammer. He flexed for a moment, testing the strength of the door. The door flexed a little but the lock held, that give exactly what he was looking for. Gritting his teeth, he pulled against the door, muscles straining as they fought against the lock.

“The door is _a foot of solid steel_ , Rogers. It’s designed so it can’t be wrenched open.” Hammer’s words were somewhere between a taunt and an assertion that Steve must be an idiot.

For a few moments, it seemed like the door wouldn’t give and Hammer was right. The noises of protest continued, but the metal itself didn’t seem to give even an inch.Then there was another noise, a horrendous screech of metal tearing apart. Whatever had latched the door shut had broken off. The door slid easily, the hiss of air releasing from the lab inside accompanying Steve’s huffing breaths as he forced the door open.

As soon as the doorway was clear, the people made a mad scramble for the door. They filed past him quickly, fading panic mingled with relief as they made it into the hallway once again. It was only when the last few made their way out, two haggard men carrying a stumbling body between them groaning in pain, that Steve took stock of what had set the alarm off. In the far corner of the room, one of the instruments they had been working on was clearly malfunctioning, parts flailing wildly. It whirred and whined its own warning, several lights and displays flashing warnings. While it continued, the chaos that had erupted in the hallway had faded.

“Rogers!” Hammer’s voice rang out over the flurry of relieved conversations as the scientists put as much space as they could between themselves and the lab. Steve’s view of the medical staff making their way down the staircase, followed by various other emergency personnel. “You disobeyed a direct order! Now I’m going to have to deal with the authorities sniffing around for the next few weeks, if not months. And all because you decided to play hero? I mean, come on, man, I’ve heard people pulling such feats for their kids trapped under cars or some crap, but for a bunch of busy-bee scientists? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Excuse me,” one of the paramedics ducked into the conversation. “Did you just say he did this?” He pointed at the mangled doorway that had once locked the lab off from the rest of the building, that had been clearly designed to seal and destroy.

“Yeah, and he’s lucky I’m only firing him and not suing him for all that he’s worth,” Hammer responded, irritation flaring in his voice.

The firefighter took another look at the door, where Steve just now noticed the grooves his fingers had made in the metal itself, before her bewildered gaze turned over to Steve.

“Sir, I think we’re going to have to ask you to come with us,” the woman offered. “Adrenaline allows for some pretty miraculous things, but we really should have someone check you out to make sure you didn’t harm anything without realizing it.”

Steve blinked, surprised by the gesture of concern from the paramedic. He was so used to directing the paramedics to look after others because of his enhanced healing factor. It only took a beat longer for the realization that he _was_ a civilian in this case, just another one of those they’d been sent to look after. He’d kept them from having to fish the bodies out of whatever horror Hammer had rigged to keep his precious secrets from getting out, but as far as they were concerned he was just a helpful coworker who’d managed to step in.

“Miracle? I want you tell me what kind of miracle it is that he ruined my _solid steel door_ and left millions of dollars worth of research open to you and all of your goons as you shuffle around in my facility?” Hammer’s voice cut through his hazy thoughts.

“Sir? If you could please come with me?” To her credit the paramedic seemed as willing to ignore Hammer’s bluster as Steve wanted to be. Steve nodded, consenting to be taken up to the ambulances to be checked out. As he was escorted out of Hammer Industries he had the sinking feeling that the whole ordeal had caused much more trouble than him simply being fired.

Amidst the flurry of activity, the paramedic who had come upon the scene by the labs had directed Steve through the crowd of police, fire, medics, and spectators that had gathered. Steve found himself at least some part relieved to see that some of the scientists he’d freed from the room had already been guided over to the waiting EMTs. They were getting the attention they needed after their brief brush with death, and that was all Steve could hope for. It didn’t stop a few from looking in his direction as he passed, recognizing him as the person who’d helped free them. At this, Steve ducked his head lower as if it might help him to become invisible. The feeling that they somehow knew settled uncomfortably in his gut, a sinking feeling that mingled with dread. Fired and outed?

The firefighter who’d led him out of the building dropped him off at the ambulance before she turned to go back to her job. One of the paramedics was over in a moment to check him over.

“Are you feeling any pain, sir?” she asked him, fixing him with a serious look.

“I’m fine, really. You should spend your time and energy on those who were almost killed,” Steve offered, trying to wave the paramedic off as they guided him to sit on the back of the ambulance. “They need it more than I do.”

“Excuse me, sir, but do you even know what you were doing?” The paramedic asked in exasperated disbelief when he shifted, like she thought he might be trying to leave. “Or how heavy that door was? You may not feel it but-”

The paramedic’s banter faded into the background as he noticed a familiar black car driving up to the scene. If his spirits had been sinking before, they plummeted as his eyes ranged over the people gathered. They settled easily on a familiar figure, the black leather trenchcoat standing out next to the impeccably pressed suit of a considerably irate Hammer. Fury. He seemed to be deep in conversation with his former boss, no doubt relaying to him the series of events that had led to Steve going against his direct orders.

Whether the paramedic actually attempted to patch him up as well or merely left him when it became clear he wasn’t injured, Steve also wasn’t certain. He was focused on Fury and Hammer in the motions of conversation. Hammer’s sweeping gestures were clearly meant to be intimidating, but were failing in the face of a man who had never seemed to be anything less than firm and resolute a day in his life. There was only one reason Fury would be here, and Steve didn’t want to think about what that reason was.

“Sir, you’re free to go now. I don’t know how you managed to do it, but you are incredibly lucky.” The paramedic’s voice was equal parts baffled and awed as it filtered back into the edges of consciousness. “Whenever you’re ready, you can go.” Steve offered him a quick thanks, ducking his head for a moment in a gesture of shy, humble acceptance of the other’s words.

Steve looked up as Fury finished up his conversation with the Hammer and started across the parking lot towards him. The look on Fury’s face didn’t seem promising, but with Fury’s general facial expressions it also wasn’t entirely surprising. The sigh Fury heaved when he stopped in front of him only served to tank his good feelings further.

“You know the Council told me that Barnes would have difficulty adjusting to civilian life. I never imagined he would be the one who settled in while I had this conversation with you,” Fury started, causing Steve to flinch with guilt. “Five times, Steve. Five times I’ve had to relocate you due to covers being blown. The Council just doesn’t have the resources to keep relocating your group like this. You’ve put us in a very precarious position.”

“I know,” Steve sighed, looking down at his hands. “I -”

“The Council has suggested that maybe our arrangement isn’t beneficial any longer. It might be better to consider different alternatives for this reassignment,” Fury fixed him with a look that sent his guts clenching uncomfortably, followed by a quick wave of indignation as he put together exactly what the Council meant to do.

“You wouldn’t,” Steve protested, fire rising along with a sense of desperation. In all the moments he’d entertained what the Council might do to him, he’d never suspected they might pull them all apart. The idea of losing Bucky and the kids struck a deeper chord than any individual punishment they could have given him. “Even if Bucky’s well adjusted, you couldn’t do that to the kids. We’re a family - you can’t just rip us apart like that!”

“Do you know how hard it is to place a family of supers together? Especially with the reputation Barnes has? You’re lucky the Council’s been willing to expend this much effort and move your family as many times as they have. Their patience is growing thin, Steve, and they’re beginning to wonder if their trust is misplaced.”

Steve glared only for his gaze to fall again, the swirling in his gut a mix of emotions - anger, indignation, worry, and a sliver of what almost felt like shame. He didn’t believe he’d done anything wrong in helping those scientists, but he _did_ feel guilty about what it might mean for his family. The cold, sick feeling settled even deeper when he thought of losing both Bucky and the family they’d patched together over their years together.

“The Council wants me to tell you we are relocating you independently of Barnes. They want me to bring him back in for monitoring, and they want all three children to be replaced with other supers.” Steve’s heart sank at the idea, stomach churning. Life with Bucky and the kids felt so natural that he couldn’t imagine being without them. The ill feeling persisted even as Fury looked ready to continue. “But given it’s a stupid-ass decision unless absolutely necessary… I’m giving you one more chance.” Fury fixed him once more with a level voice and a look that made it clear he couldn’t afford to mess this up.

Steve’s gaze, which had lifted in disbelief, melted into a mix of confusion and gratitude. He fought for the words to express his feelings, only to fumble over them with a mouth half open. Fury gave a small, unamused snort and looked away.

“Don’t thank me,” he offered tersely. “The Council has approved you staying in your current location only because we managed to contain the incident and it was only you involved. You, however, will be responsible for finding your own employment this time around.”

Steve nodded in response, swallowing around the nerves that had built up even as relief flooded through his system like a stream of cool water. They were safe… For now, at least.

“Thank you,” he offered, finding the words amidst everything.

“This is the _last_ time, Steve,” Fury intoned again, eye hard as he waved the thanks off. “Remember your arrangements are the result of your appealing to the Council. If they see these arrangements as a danger to the laws and powers that be, they can and will be changed.” Fury let the weight settle on Steve with those words, the pressure almost tangibly sinking onto his shoulders as he digested the words. “Now I’ve gotta go take care of the rest of your mess.”

Without another word, Fury turned on his heel and stalked away from Steve and the ambulance. Steve felt the tension and anger seep out of his shoulders, head falling into his hands as he processed what had just happened.


	3. The Only Normal One is Peter!

When Steve got home that evening, Wanda was standing at the front door waiting for him. The look on her face was expectant, searching. Of course she would know already - it was hard to keep much of anything from her when she could read the fear in the room like a book and fish through any thoughts not carefully pushed into the deeper levels of his mind.

“I’ll tell him,” he offered with a heavy sigh before she could speak, trying to suppress the spike of anxiety that threatened to rise at the very idea of discussing the events of the day with Bucky.

“Are we moving again?” she asked, eyes wary though he could tell she was trying to restrain herself from just fishing for the information in his head herself.

“No,” he responded, shaking his head. “We get to stay here. There’s nothing to worry about, okay?”

Wanda quirked a brow at him, the gesture of skepticism so reminiscent of Bucky that it momentarily threw him off. That thought pulled a small smile from Wanda, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards for just a brief moment.

“What will you do?” she asked, fixing him with a more serious look. It softened, however, as she glanced over her shoulder.

“I thought I heard your car up front,” Bucky’s voice trailed from down the hallway as he made himself known, a gurgling Peter tucked carefully into a sling on his chest. The image only reminded him of Fury’s assertion that Bucky was the one who had adjusted to their civilian lives. Dressed in loose fitting jeans and a red henley (tied off on one side, the vision of a veteran who’d lost a limb), his hair pulled back into a fresh ponytail, he looked tired but like he fit into the life that had been carved for them. The upward curve of his lip as he looked down at Peter was so gentle it was hard for Steve to believe Bucky was the same man who’d tried to kill him seven years ago.

It also reminded him of how close he’d come to costing Bucky all of that today, including the children he claimed to only grudgingly love. Anyone who believed his half-hearted complaints only needed to see Bucky with his children to see through the lie. While Bucky had never been fully content with being a stay-at-home parent, he’d settled into it with an enthusiasm that was born of his love for their three.

Wanda frowned, a gesture he caught out of the corner of his eye that told him he’d projected those thoughts too loudly.

“I’ll go check on dinner,” she offered, glancing at them both before she retreated back towards the kitchen. Bucky watched her go before he turned back to Steve, adjusting a squirming Peter on his hip.

"Mama!" Peter squealed up at Bucky before his attention shifted and he extended his arms out towards Steve, rocking against Bucky’s chest. Steve closed the distance, sweeping Peter up into his own before he could unseat himself further and risk falling out of the sling. He cradled Peter against his own chest, smiling as their youngest gripped at his shirt and babbled nonsense at him until he'd earned a smile.

"There's my boy," Steve offered, grin turning mushy at the happy burbling. "Not giving your mom too much trouble now, are you?" His gaze focused on the one year old in his arms even as he could feel the force of Bucky's glare.

"How was your day?" Bucky asked after a moment, using his now-free arm to smooth back a few wayward strands of hair as he watched the pair.

"Long," Steve offered in return, his smile turning decidedly tired as he looked towards Bucky. He didn't want to worry the other, but it took so much more energy to muster a smile for him in the face of the day - of the dire blow he'd almost inflicted to their family. "But it's over now and dinner smells great. What're we having?"

"I heated up the leftover chicken and mixed it in with some pasta. Wanda is making a salad to go with it. Pietro has been suspiciously absent," Bucky supplied, though the smile he offered didn't quite make it into his eyes. "You want to talk about your day?"

"It was the same old, same old, Buck," Steve offered in return, effectively dismissing it as he bounced Peter in his arms and let his attention drift back to the child. "It's nothing I haven't already talked your ear off about before."

Steve could see the seeds of unease written in Bucky’s body language even as he could tell the other was trying to hide it. In the seven years that they’d been living together courtesy of the Council’s decision, Steve liked to believe he’d gotten better at reading the other’s sometimes deceptive body language and calm. While the marriage might have started largely as a show, the friendship that had blossomed had given him the opportunity to learn even some of Bucky’s most carefully kept quirks and tells. Unfortunately, it went both ways; Bucky knew he was hiding something, if not exactly what, and that only made it harder for Steve to maintain his falsely chipper mood.

"I'll go check in with Wanda on dinner," Bucky offered in response, his tone measured and careful as he excused himself.

"Buck," Steve started in protest when Bucky had taken a step back, shifting Peter into one hand so that he could tug Bucky closer with the other.

"Hmm?" Bucky started but before he could get much more out, Steve had pulled him in even closer to plant a kiss on his lips. Peter gave another happy squeal at being sandwiched between his parents, but it only lasted a few moments before Steve let Bucky pull away.

"There's nothing you need to worry about, okay?" Steve wanted Bucky to believe it, and Bucky seemed to want to as well, but something in the way that Steve said it only seemed to ingrain the worry more firmly into Bucky’s expression.

"I don't have much else to do, now do I?" Bucky asked him in response. He offered a smile and a weak chuckle, though Steve could see that the mirth wasn't reaching his eyes. Bucky knew something was wrong, but Steve couldn't bring himself to get into it now. It would carry over into dinner and drag in the whole family as a result. "I'm going to help Wanda finish with dinner. All I need you to do is make sure that both you and Peter are in your seats and ready when it's served."

"Yessir!" Steve replied, making a show of saluting. Bucky rolled his eyes and disappeared back down the hallway towards the kitchen.

Peter gurgled up at him before looking down the hallway and supplying another "Mama!' in Bucky's wake. Steve sighed, feeling the false wall he put up come crumbling down now that he was only faced with his infant son.

"After dinner," he offered with a heavy sigh, earning a quizzical look from the baby in his arms before Peter dove into another string of happy babble at his father. He only hoped he'd have a better idea of what to say once they'd finished eating.

 

* * *

 

"So, how was school today?" Bucky asked once they'd gathered for dinner, levelling a pointed look in Pietro's direction. Pietro was busy shoveling portions of pasta in his mouth in such large forkfuls that it was a miracle he didn't choke. He glanced up at Bucky at the question, earning an arched brow and a firmer look that saw the young man swallowing heavily around the bite of pasta he currently had in his mouth.

"Track tryouts are in a week," Pietro offered in response around an avoidant smile that earned him a frown.

"Something tells me your father's not asking about track tryouts," Steve supplied, looking up from his own generous portion of food to join Bucky in the firm stares.

"I may or may not have gotten sent to the principal's office?" Pietro’s voice was hesitant as he offered the information forward. He didn’t sound ashamed so much as worried about what Steve was going to do with the information.

"You got sent to the principal's office?" Steve asked, frustration brimming in his voice.

"I didn't actually get caught doing anything," Pietro protested, but not before he shot Bucky a glare for ratting him out via pointed questions.

"It doesn't matter if you got caught," Steve responded, voice forcibly calm. "What happened?"

"It wasn't that big of a deal. Mom's making it a big deal -"

"You left a bag of dog shit in your math teacher's office, Pietro," Bucky protested in return, voice raising in his own frustration. "And we've been over this before, you're not supposed -"

"They couldn't prove it," Pietro offered in counter, though the grin that spread across his face seemed to illustrate well enough his involvement in the matter.

"How many times do we have to go over what our powers are for, Pietro?" Steve asked in response, his voice staying calm despite the firm set of his jaw.

“It’s not like we’re ever going to get to use them for that,” Pietro countered in response, eyes flashing. Steve sighed, bracing himself for the debate - hardly a new one in their house.

“It’s actions like this that make that certain,” Steve responded, frown tugging at his features. “Irresponsible use of our powers makes others think we aren’t capable of using them responsibly, which means that the current bans can’t be lifted.”

“They don’t even know we have powers,” Pietro shot back. Wanda had glanced over only for a moment before busying herself with Peter, the infant making a good show of trying to get his hands into the food Bucky had left abandoned on the tray of his high chair.

“It might not seem like much now, Pietro, but things like this add up. If you start making bad choices now, they’ll only get worse as you get older.” Steve’s voice was even, but firm in his resolve about the dangers of letting Pietro fall into the habit of using his powers for dishonorable things. The frown drew Steve’s mouth into a tight line, disapproval radiating in a way even Bucky’s scowl didn’t seem to communicate.

“Yeah, and when you’re older it won’t be a trip to the principal’s office or a suspension,” Bucky chimed in. “The ERA team gets involved.” Steve knew that Bucky was only saying it because it was a very real possibility, but it didn’t stop the comment from feeling like a punch to the gut. It rang too true, the slightly stiffness from the afternoon’s exertions settling in perhaps just a little bit more at the memory of Fury and the ERA agents appearing at Hammer Tech.

“We’d know all about that, wouldn’t we?” Pietro’s words were leveled at both, but where Bucky bristled, it brought a fresh wave of anxiety and panic to Steve in lieu of the frustration that might have come. If the guilt had been a dull throb before, Pietro’s pointed words caused the guilt to blossom more fully in his belly. He couldn’t have known. Even though Wanda knew something, she wouldn’t have broken her promise so quickly. That didn’t make the conversation feel like any less of a punishment for the day he’d had, a stark reminder of the conversation he would be having shortly after dinner finished.

“Look here,” Bucky started, voice a growl, stopping Steve’s head from drooping in shame as it picked back up at Bucky’s jumping in. “We know all about mistakes, but _choosing_ to do dumbass things that might get you in trouble is where we draw the line. Believe it or not we’d like to stay in the same house for more than a couple years at a time.” Just because Bucky didn’t mention Steve specifically didn’t make the nonexistent accusation stick any less heavily.

Pietro’s rebuttal was stopped before it had even fully formed on his tongue when the doorbell chimed. Peter squealed, the musical notes earning a giggle that caused the mouthful of food Wanda had just managed to feed him to slide from his mouth onto the bib tied around his neck.

“It’s Sam,” Wanda provided when both Steve and Bucky shot questioning looks her way. Their attention shifted towards the door, Wanda’s hands glowing with soft red light for just a moment followed by the sounds of the door creaking open, coaxed by her hands.

“Oh please, no one get up on my account,” Sam’s voice filtered in from the entryway before he peeked his head into the dining room. “How’s my favorite average American family?”

“Don’t have enough of a life of your own so you have to come invade ours?” Bucky asked him in response, the fury he’d been radiating moments before melting into a look of mock irritation.

“Just so happens I’m stealing your husband away to the batting cages,” Sam responded. He stood calmly at the end of the dining room, yet Steve could tell he was ready to melt into the largely dramatized antagonism between him and Bucky.

“There are several things wrong with the fact that my therapist and my husband have regular date nights,” Bucky sniped back, Steve noting the mock irritation was just a shade off to be completely false.

“Yeah, well the last thing I want to talk to Steve about is you,” Sam quipped in turn. “There is such a thing as too much information.”

“Sam,” Steve protested, the beginnings of a blush already creeping onto his face.

“Don’t you ‘Sam’ me when you know it’s true,” Sam responded, giving him an all-too-knowing look. “Now are we going? Or should I pull up a chair and help myself?”

“Who said you were invited to my dinner table, Wilson?” Bucky shot back.

“Oh, so that’s how it is?” Sam gave him a look of mock offense.

“Only when someone interrupts my family meal to steal people away.”

“I’ll be back later, Buck,” Steve offered, already in the midst of clearing his plates from the table. He had genuinely forgotten about the batting cages with Sam in all the sudden turmoil of the end of his day. While he wasn’t even certain he was up to discussing it with Sam, the opportunity of a few more hours in which he could stall breaking the news of his job search to Bucky was too great to pass up. “It’s just a trip to the batting cages, we won’t be gone too late.”

“You going to cheat me out of beers after again? Just because you win every time doesn’t mean you get to cash out early,” Sam protested.

“Go,” Bucky offered, waving Steve away when he came in to offer a peck on the temple. “We’ll get by here. Don’t let Wilson here keep you out all hours of the night.”

Steve leaned in for the peck anyway, before standing to his full height. “We’ll finish this conversation later,” he said, turning towards Pietro. The amusement on the teen’s face fell along with his gaze and he pushed his vegetables around on the plate in response.

Steve moved around the table, pausing at Peter’s high chair and offering the infant a kiss on the forehead that earned him a happy coo, a quick hug from Wanda, and a firm pat on Pietro’s shoulder before he moved to follow Sam’s retreating back.

“Don’t keep him out too late, Wilson, I mean it!” Bucky called after them.

“Yeah, yeah, not past your bedtime. See you for our next appointment!” Sam called back over his shoulder.

“I’ll be back later,” Steve offered, feeling the weight of Wanda’s gaze on him as he stood in the doorway - expectant. He was relieved that he had managed to stave off the conversation with Bucky just a little bit longer, but the weight of the conversation to come settled uncomfortably even as he turned to follow Sam. Hopefully the batting cages would offer him some kind of solution to his problem.

“So are you going to tell me what’s going on with you or are we going to play the ‘pretend it didn’t happen’ game all night?” Sam asked as soon as the car pulled away from the curb outside of the Rogers-Barnes residence. Steve felt his shoulders curl forward with a resigned sigh.

“You know I’m not supposed to share that information,” Steve responded, fixing him with a look.

“Oh, so it’s that kind of a thing?” Sam asked, eyebrows shooting upwards. “I figured you and Barnes were just going through a rough patch, but now I’m curious.”

“Sam, you know I can’t -”

“Well you’re a terrible liar and you look like your grandmother died,” Sam shot back. “You can take a load off, man. I can keep a secret.”

Steve considered it for a moment, tempted to spill all of his stress to _someone._ Another part of him wanted to use the night as a brief break from facing the fires that would still be there on his return home. He stole another look at Sam, who was waiting patiently for an explanation as he drove.

“I got fired from my job today,” he finally offered, staring down into his lap.

“And?”

“Look, Hammer is a crook and he was willing to let those scientists _die_ to protect some research and I just couldn’t stand there and watch it happen, Sam. It wasn’t _right._ ” Steve offered the explanation emphatically; he still couldn’t bring himself to regret saving them. Even so, a small hint of sorrow crept into his voice as he remembered the cost.

“So you made a big show of it,” Sam offered as a guess in a mild tone. “And by the look on your face, Fury got called in, didn’t he? Because you violated the ERA?” Steve didn’t even get a verbal response in before Sam was offering a long-suffering sigh with a shake of his head. “So, how far away will you be this time?”

“We’re not moving.”

“Oh?” Sam’s surprise peeked through. “How’d you work that out with Fury?”

“We’re on our own,” Steve responded. “Or I am. We can stay here and I’ll find a job on my own.” It sounded so much _easier_ than it would be, laid out like that.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ in there.”

“This is our last shot,” Steve responded with a sigh.

“Well, I would imagine-”

“No, this is _our_ last shot. If there’s another incident, Fury’s going to split us up. Me, Bucky, the kids… They’ll relocate us all separately.”

“Well, that’s something.” Sam’s voice was calm and matter-of-fact, but the arch in his eyebrows betrayed the weight he acknowledged in that information. “I’m guessing Barnes doesn’t know yet?”

“No,” Steve could feel himself caving in. He clasped his hands together tightly, staring at them intently. “I was trying to figure out how to tell him. Wanda knows, or she at least has a good idea, but she’ll wait…”

“Yeah, but he knows something’s wrong,” Sam responded. “You could almost cut the tension in that room with a knife. Now, I’d say I know Barnes about as well as you, and I’d be ready to explain yourself when you walk in that door tonight.”

Steve let out another weighty sigh, but he couldn’t protest that. Sam was right, even if the thought brought curls of dread into his stomach. He might have been able to put some of Wanda’s fears to rest, but he couldn’t even begin to formulate how he would tell Bucky.

 _Bucky_. They’d been through this before, but with each restart there had been the hope that they would finally, for once and for all, stay put where they had been moved to. Bucky, who’d been forced into the role of staying at home when the avenues for relocating a former “villain” and disabled person had dried up, who took care of all of them nonetheless. Separating from Steve might give Bucky the chance at finding work again, something Steve knew Bucky wanted. Losing the kids? That would tear Bucky up far greater than any job opportunity was worth.

“Talk to me, Steve.” Sam’s voice broke through the train of thought, even and insistent. “It’s not good to keep it all in your head. We can work through this.”

“Am I doing the right thing, Sam?” he asked, voice sounding far too small. “Maybe... maybe he’ll be better off if the ERP helps him without me.”

“And take those kids away from him?” Sam asked in return. “You think Barnes is going to let those kids go? He may act like they’re a pain in his ass, but you couldn’t pay me to get between him and them.”

The comment pulled a small smile from him, then a half chuckle as he shook his head.

“You can’t run away from this, Steve.” Sam’s tone turned serious again. “There isn’t an easy answer, but you know that. You’re going to have to work through this, and you’re going to have to work through it with Barnes. But nothing worth fighting for is ever easy, Steve. You of all people should know that.”

“Yeah,” he responded, nodding his head despite the nerves that fluttered through him. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“You know I am. Now how about we _actually_ hit up the batting cages this time. If you’re going to stumble through this conversation with Barnes you might as well be able to tell him you actually did what you said you were going to do,” Sam offered.

“You sure you can handle that?” Steve asked, brightening enough to offer him a teasing grin in response.

“Oh, _I_ can handle it. The batting cages? Not so sure about those. Think you can go easy on ‘em this time?” he asked, quirking a suspicious eyebrow.

“That was _one_ time, Sam.”

“Yeah, but _you_ weren’t the one trying to explain how that mangled mess was even possible. You know what? I’m beginning to understand why we don’t go to batting cages very often anymore.”

“Are you suggesting we do something else?”

“No,no, _no_. We’re going to do what we told your husband and kids we were doing, then you’re going to buy me a few beers and I’m going to drop you off at home. No vigilante hero business. I am _not_ going to make my own job harder by giving Barnes reason to turn that murder stare on me for the next few months,” Sam responded, shaking his head emphatically as he turned a corner, putting them en route to the batting cages.

* * *

 

When Sam dropped Steve off later that night, the clock on the radio flashed an accusatory “12:30 a.m.,” a stark contrast to the darkness that seemed to pervade the house. Steve suspected everyone had turned in for the night. This bought him a few precious hours before his alarm would go off that morning; he had to figure out his explanation as to why he wasn’t going into work that morning. If he could manage to slip into bed without waking Bucky. Steve entertained the notion of staying on the couch, freeing himself from the possibility entirely and giving himself the full benefit of the hours waiting.

“Tell him,” Sam offered, resting a hand on his shoulder for a moment. “Maybe don’t go wake him up and have the conversation with him now, but be honest with him. It’s going to save you a whole lot of drama in the long run.”

Steve gave him a weak smile in return. “Next week?” he asked.

“Next week,” Sam responded. “Same as every week. Maybe we’ll even get lucky and have no broken equipment two weeks in a row.”

Steve snorted and shook his head before pushing the door open. “Don’t get your hopes up.” He slipped out of the car, waving as he shut the door. With a (just slightly sassy) salute in response, Sam drove off, leaving Steve to face the dark house on his own.

The house was silent, the only light coming from a small lamp left on in the entranceway. The gesture was small, but it pulled a tender smile from Steve as he passed - at the very least, it gave him the assurance that Bucky wasn’t furious over his not coming home before he went to bed.

He’d almost made it past the living room when a light flared on and he nearly jumped out of his own skin. Bucky had seated himself in one of the arm chairs facing the front door, his face mirroring his exhaustion and yet it radiated the tense concentration of someone expecting a serious conversation.

“Shit, Buck!” Steve gasped, only remembering at the last moment to temper his voice down to a lower octave - the kids were all asleep by now.

“I was beginning to wonder where you were,” Bucky responded, voice carefully guarded in a way that made the emotions behind his words hard to read. “Couldn’t even send a text? Or call?”

“I was with Sam, I was _fine_ ,” Steve protested, his hopes for Bucky not being angry dashed. “You know I would’ve called if anything had happened.”

“Yeah, well it’s not every night you tell me we’ll talk afterwards and then leave me waiting at home like this,” Bucky shot back, and there was frustration leaking into his voice that Steve couldn’t tell whether it was from concern or anger. “You have work in the morning, and the kids have school. It’s past all our bedtimes now.”

Steve tried not to flinch at the mention of work, of the fact that he would not be going back to Hammer Industries the next morning to file shitty paperwork and swindle both workers and customers out of their hard earned money. He tried not to pay attention to the confrontation between shame and an utter lack of it - the fact that he’d failed his family again but had stood up for what he believed was right. Even with the swirl of guilt about nearly losing his family all together, he couldn’t bring himself to regret his decision to stand up to Hammer and help free the scientists.

“We can talk about it in the morning, Buck. We’re both tired now,” Steve sighed, letting his hands slip into his pockets. Briefly, he wished that alcohol had the same effect on him that it had on others; that would at least give him the excuse of that exhaustion to direct them towards their bedroom.

“You mean when we’ve got two kids to wrestle out of bed for school, three kids to feed, and no more than five minutes together before you need to get ready for work?” Bucky asked, a brow arched and his body still firmly planted in the chair as if he were preparing for a face off. “So we’ll put it off to tomorrow night when you get home, but you’ll be tired and Wanda’ll need help with her psych homework or Pietro’ll start another fight about track tryouts and-”

“Buck,” Steve broke in, voice even and attempting to instill calm. Bucky’s eyes flashed with irritation for a moment, but he shut his mouth and gave Steve an expectant look. “We’ll talk about this in the morning. If I have to take the morning off, then so be it.”

“Yeah? And what’ll Hammer think if you do that?” he asked in response, his look far too suspicious for Steve’s comfort. He resisted a shiver, uncertain whether it came from the weight of Bucky’s gaze or a drop in the room’s temperature in response to Bucky’s mood.

“I haven’t taken a sick day the entire time I’ve worked for him,” Steve responded with a snort, mustering up a far more confident smile than he actually felt.

“Just one of the many perks of the serum, huh?” Bucky responded, rolling his eyes and giving just the hints of a smile. The small upwards twitch of the lip did far more to relax Steve than words could have. Bucky fixed him with a look quickly after. “Don’t think you’re getting out of any of this, pal. Tomorrow morning, you’re gonna tell me what’s eating you if I have to freeze you to the kitchen table.” The words might have been delivered with lightness, but the gravity of them was not lost on Steve.

“Well I don’t know about you, but I’m turning in for the night,” Steve offered after a moment, gesturing with his head towards the bedroom. “You’re welcome to stay in the recliner, though, if it’s more comfortable.”

“You wish, punk. You just wanna be able to hog all the blankets for yourself again.” Bucky’s eyes danced with amusement as he shifted himself in the recliner, hefting himself up and out of it. “Not after I waited up for you. I’m not giving up sleep _and_ the damned bed.”

It had gotten Bucky moving, however, plodding his way down the dim hallway, unconsciously melting into a gait best described as almost eerily silent. Steve knew it was born out of a desire to pass the kids’ rooms without waking them, but it also served as a reminder of the lives they’d led in the time before the Enhanced Registration Act’s existence. It was proof that, even while they tried to adjust, there were certain things that even the years couldn’t knock out of them.

Bucky turned back to him once he’d reached the doorway, arching a brow in a question that told Steve he’d been caught staring. He closed the distance between them, an arm wrapping around the other’s waist in a gesture that had become such second nature over the years of practice. Holding Bucky close had become instinctive, and his lips tugged upwards into a smile at the way Bucky’s eyes widened in confusion for a moment before softening, almost tender in their gaze.

“Good night, Buck,” he offered, a low whisper to keep from waking their children. “I love you.”

“The kids are asleep,” Bucky responded, voice low after a moment of pause. There was something unreadable in his eyes that begged for a question but also brought forth a small throb in Steve’s own chest. “And we should be, too. Go get dressed for bed, ‘cause I’m not about to have your lumbering into bed and waking me up again.”

Bucky did, however, lean in to give him a quick peck on the cheek before he extricated himself from Steve’s arms and attempted to stifle a yawn with the back of his hand. Steve found himself lingering in the doorway as he watched Bucky slide into their bed, beginning his nightly routine of discomfort. Bucky shifted from one side to the other, a common occurrence as he battled between resting his weight on the metal remains of his left shoulder or rolling onto his right and running the risk of pinning his remaining limb under himself. The shifting was broken by a sigh of frustration, as he turned over one last time, wiggling to adjust his position on the pillow before he settled resting on the stump of his metal arm. It gave more of an air of defeat than comfort, but the silence that followed prompted Steve to change out of his batting cage clothing and into his nightclothes.

When Steve dropped the duffel he’d taken with him, however, there was the distinct clank of metal against a solid object that gave him pause. The sound certainly wasn’t the typical _thud_ of his gym shoes, towel, and water bottle. He wondered briefly if Sam might have accidentally thrown something into his bag when they’d been sitting on the bench outside the cage. Crouching, he rifled through the sparse contents to find something slim, about the size of an average tablet, and bearing the distinct shine of metal. He turned the object over in his hands a few times, looking for any buttons or switches, any sign of what the object might be.

_Want to play the message?_

The message flashed across the surface, metallic sheen uninterrupted except for the dark lettering that now seemed engraved on the surface. Steve started at the question, the fact that this unknown object seemed to be waiting for some kind of _response_.

“Steve?” Bucky’s voice called from the bedroom, already laced with sleepiness. “Get lost in there?”

“I’m coming!” he called back, shoving the tablet back into his bag as he slid a fresh pair of shorts on and kicked his duffel into its usual spot. He took one last look at it, trying to resign himself to the notion he’d call Sam in the morning and ask him about it.

It took all of Steve’s energy to push it from his mind as he pulled back the sheets on his own side of the bed, sliding under them in a momentary shuffle to get comfortable. He’d barely settled himself in, when the bed shifted again as a half-asleep Bucky rolled into the fresh source of warmth he provided. It had taken months for Bucky to grow comfortable in this position, with his arm pressed into the space between them and thus harder to use in the case of an emergency. Steve shifted himself enough to accommodate the other there, leaning into his presence. They fit together like this, and Steve found himself more comfortable like this than he’d ever been sleeping alone.

In another life, the brunet might even have curled in further, thrown his arm over Steve’s waist as he slept. Instead, Steve was left with the press of Bucky’s calf against his shin as he shifted in closer and the brief glimpse of the fabric-capped metal he was forbidden to show anyone else. The proximity, however, was enough to banish thoughts of sleep from Steve’s mind and allow the weight of sleep to close in.


	4. The Supers Aren't Dead

The morning was heralded with the sound of wailing from down the hall and a groan from Bucky as he dragged himself from sleep and shifted his weight towards the edge of the bed.

“‘Ve got ‘im…,” Bucky grumbled, barely discernible in his barely conscious state. Steve opened his eyes just in time to watch Bucky’s disheveled form stumble towards the door and out into the hallway, on his way to tend to their youngest son.

The tablet.

It was his first fully formed thought, but it had Steve rolling out of bed himself and tracing the steps back to the closet. He’d have a few minutes to look it over before Bucky would be back, perhaps even longer depending on how agreeable Peter decided to be once he got to him.

He was on his knees and slipping it out of the duffel bag again in moments, suddenly more awake than he should have been. All dread at the thought of having to explain to Bucky that he wouldn’t be going back to work at Hammer Industries today, or ever, melted away for the time as the dark-lettered “ _Want to play the message?”_ glittered across the surface again. Steve turned it over in his hands, searching again fruitlessly for some kind of button and switch. He tapped at the “screen”, to no avail.

“ _Want to play the message?”_ This time the words weren’t just displayed on the silvery surface - they were spoken aloud in a strange, disjointed, almost robotic voice. Steve’s head swung about wildly, uncertain whether he was searching for another source of the noise or making sure that it hadn’t somehow alerted another member of the house to its presence.

But life in the house seemed to go on without notice. Steve could hear the familiar sounds of Bucky and the kids shuffling about the house in the morning routine, but none of the footfalls came close to the room. Wanda’s course hadn’t suddenly paused in the hallway, aware of the secretive nature of all of this. Bucky hadn’t come bursting back into the room with sudden energy, nor had he called down the hallway to see what Steve was doing. He caught his breath, taking one deep and almost shaky.

“Yes. Play the message.”

 _“Confirm identity.”_ The robotic voice demanded, seemingly not finished with him yet.

“Steve Rogers,” he offered, eyebrow quirking. He’d let himself get this far into it now that even the slight feeling of warning in the back of his mind wasn’t enough to deter him from moving forward.

The screen flared to life suddenly, silvery surface now giving way to the image of a young woman with a shock of impeccably curled red hair. She was beautiful, but she wore her beauty in a way that made it feel more like a weapon she was wielding than anything else. One corner of her mouth was canted upwards in what looked like a vaguely amused smirk, but the true danger seemed to flicker in the grey of her eyes.

“Steve Rogers,” she started, effectively ruining any chance this might have been intended for anyone else. “Or should I say Captain America?” The amusement danced across her features, almost as if she’d anticipated the skip in his heart beat and the tensing in his shoulders in response to the moniker. “I’m Natasha, but I’m sure you’re more interested in why I’ve sent you this message, hm?”

Steve knew he should be suspicious of just _how_ this message had gotten to him the night before or even at all. Someone had clearly taken great effort to find him and pass this along. It had been years since anyone had the identity he’d worn as a hero. Captain America had only existed as a note in his file at the ERA and in the memories of the people he’d once fought hard to protect and serve. Steve Rogers had fortunately been able to leave that secret identity secret, giving him a chance at the normal life he now shared with Bucky.

“Word on the streets is that you’re having trouble laying low. My employer would like to offer you a unique opportunity to stretch those rather impressive muscles of yours.” She arched a brow playfully, and though the message was pre-recorded, Steve got the distinct impression that the woman was sizing him up via the message. “It’s been a long time since you’ve had the opportunity, I imagine. My employer hates to think they’re going to waste.”

It was working, whatever her strategy was. She wanted his attention and she was getting it, even the brief glimmer of hope that he might be able to do _something_ reminiscent of the old days. Steve had never been very good at standing back, fading into the background and keeping his head down in ways that didn’t cause trouble. He had always lived for the next good cause to fight for, the next mission to better things, and it was this kind of work that he had been suffering without the past few years. The smug look on this Natasha’s face only seemed to more infuriatingly drive this point home.

He settled himself into a sitting position on the closet floor, ready to at least hear out whatever information she had for him.

“The gist of the matter is that my employer has need of someone with your specific skill set. They are willing to offer the amount displayed at the bottom of the screen upon successful completion of the job.” An amount scrolled across the bottom of the screen that had Steve blinking in disbelief. “Yes, I know, a lot isn’t it?” the amusement in her voice had him wondering if this was, in fact, a prerecorded message at all.

“Now, the number at the bottom of the screen is what you’ll need to contact us at if you happen to be interested in the job. Please write it down somewhere safe, and dispose of this device in the next four hours or it will dispose of itself and, likely, a good portion of that lovely home of yours. Goodbye, Steve, and we hope to hear from you.”

“Steve! I could use some help out here!” Bucky’s voice rang from somewhere far away in the house, the frustrated exasperation clear in the tone.

“Coming, Buck!” he called in response, hastily shoving the now unresponsive silver tablet back into his gym bag, zipping it and shoving it back in the corner for good measure as he jumped to heed Bucky’s call before the fireworks sparked further.

“Steve, I -” Bucky’s frustrated tirade stopped before it started as soon as he caught sight of Steve, eyes widening for a moment before he averted his gaze. “You’re not even dressed yet?”

Pietro snorted in amusement, earning a glare from Bucky. Steve looked down, realizing in the time he’d been listening to the message that he hadn’t changed out of the pair of shorts he’d been wearing and had failed to throw a shirt on before he’d left their room. The flush spread almost instantly all the way up to his ears, which only seemed to encourage Pietro’s snickering.

“Oh, don’t get embarrassed on our account,” Pietro smirked around his cereal.

“Pietro!” Bucky snapped, the irritation in his voice making it unclear whether he actually was embarrassed or simply tired of the teenager’s prodding. He turned his attention back towards Steve. “So I take it you were serious about the whole taking the morning off thing?”

“Yeah,” Steve responded, heaving a big sigh that already felt dishonest, even if the lie was relatively small. “Hammer Industries will just have to survive one morning without me.”

Bucky eyed him skeptically for a moment before the arched brow melted away and a small, warm smile replaced it on his features. Steve nearly melted, aware of just how much he wished he could keep that look of fondness etched permanently on Bucky’s face.

Peter squealed just then, pulling Bucky’s attention away from his husband as he shifted over towards the toddler in his high chair. Bucky burbled something unintelligible, earning another peal of squeals from their youngest. Bucky ruffled Peter’s hair before settling into the seat in front of his high chair.

“You’re doing it again,” Pietro commented, long suffering sigh accompanied with an eyeroll. Wanda and Steve caught each other’s eyes for a moment, saying nothing, but bracing themselves.

“Sorry, Pietro, but you’re gonna have to be more specific,” Bucky responded, the low levels of irritation creeping into his voice marking danger.

“Burbling nonsense.”

“I am _not_.”

“You are.”

“Buck, why don’t you let me feed Peter this morning?” Steve broke in, attempting to dissolve the tension before it exploded any further. “Take a break, give yourself a morning off. I’ll get the kids ready, take them to school, and then we can talk.” Bucky had been running through this routine since they’d moved to their newest assignment, taking on the domestic duties when they’d been unable to find job placement for them both.

Bucky’s eyes flashed for a moment, irritation and challenge in them, but the remark back didn’t come. Instead, Bucky heaved a sigh before standing up once again and gesturing for Steve to take his place.

“Well, since I have all of this time now, I’m gonna make waffles,” Bucky offered as Steve slid into the seat he’d just occupied. “Can I interest you in some?” Bucky let his hand rest on Steve’s shoulder gently as he asked, leaning down to offer him a quick kiss on the temple.

“I’d love some,” Steve offered, a smile chasing away any lingering reservations about this Natasha and her mysterious employer for the moment.

“Now you’re making waffles?” Pietro chimed in again, aghast. Wanda had buried herself in the book she had propped open in front of her, for all intents and purposes tuning the conversation out.

“You’re perfectly capable of making your own waffles if you want them,” Bucky responded. “Besides, it’s incentive for you to feed Peter and get dressed so you can take them to school.” The last part was clearly directed towards Steve, a squeeze to the shoulder accompanying it before Bucky was slipping away into the kitchen.

“Guess I better get my school stuff together,” Pietro offered, sarcasm coming through as he stood and gathered his dirty dishes to take them in.

“Leave him be, Pietro,” Wanda offered, cryptic yet it had pulled her attention away from the book she had been reading. Pietro shot her a look, sighed, rolled his eyes and disappeared into the kitchen for a few moments before he slipped out without incident and headed to his room.

“So, Wanda, made any friends at school yet?” Steve asked, the number of conversation-capable people in the room now having dwindled down to two. Wanda had always been quieter than her brother, perhaps by virtue of the invasive nature of her powers, but each move had seemed to withdraw her further from the rest of her peers.

Wanda shrugged noncommittally from behind her book, not looking up as she flipped to the next page. Steve sighed, leaving her be as he turned to the gurgling Peter. The infant gave a joyful squeal when he noticed that Steve’s attention had turned to him, waving his arms in the air as if conducting something. Steve cracked a smile before turning to pick up the bowl of mush that Bucky had prepared before he’d stepped in, settling to feed Peter.

“So, you’re going to stay home and talk?” Wanda asked, voice sounding distracted, uninterested though the question was pointed. Her eyes didn’t even flick up from her book.

“That’s the plan,” Steve offered, careful to keep his voice even and his thoughts focused. Whether Wanda was ‘listening’ or not, the conversation could very likely be overheard by Bucky even from the other room.

“You’re buttering him up,” Wanda commented, a small bit of amusement filtering into her voice.

“Now what makes you say that?” Steve asked with an easy grin, before his face turned serious. “Think it’s working?”

“He’s making you waffles, isn’t he?” Wanda asked, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards just slightly in her amusement. “With strawberries, I think. Take that as you will.” She shrugged, before snapping her book shut and standing to finish gathering her things for school.

Bucky emerged from the kitchen with a tray, loaded with two plates of waffles just as Steve finished feeding Peter, the boy making a series of unidentifiable noises in pleasure as he pushed a toy around on the tray of his high chair. He leaned in to offer Steve a brief kiss, smiling against his lips as he set the tray down in front of Steve. He pulled away to take the plates off the tray before sinking down into the seat next to Steve with a sigh.

“How long do I have before I have to load ‘em up?” Steve asked, nodding his head towards Wanda as he took his own plate of food.

“Oh, I’d say about twenty minutes,” Bucky responded. “Make sure they’re not late but it might save you from the PTA moms.”

“The PTA moms?” Steve quirked an eyebrow, confused as to why that was an important part of the morning.

“They may glare at me, but something tells me they’d have a different reaction to you,” Bucky offered in return, giving him a deliberate once-over to prove his point. “Especially if you show up like that.”

Steve looked down at his crumpled shirt and shorts and flushed. “I’ll change.”

* * *

 

As soon as Steve had watched both Pietro and Wanda disappear into the school building, he was pulling around the corner and moving the car into park. With Peter dozed off in his car seat, it gave Steve the time to pull the crumpled piece of scrap paper out of his pocket that he’d scribbled the contact number on. Smoothing it against the steering wheel, Steve tapped it into his phone with fumbling fingers.

It took only two rings for someone to pick up on the other line.

“Steve Rogers.” The dry humor in the female voice was recognizable as the woman from the earlier message. “I was beginning to think you’d never call. Didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s not polite to keep a lady waiting?”

“Natasha,” Steve offered in return, probably less of a question than it should have been.

“Well, at least we’ve got that part down.” Her voice was surprisingly light, almost playful in contrast to the nervous thud of Steve’s heart. He glanced back at Peter, still sound asleep, as if their youngest might somehow wake up and be able to divulge this information to Bucky. Guilt gnawed at his stomach, working in tandem with the burning curiosity that had driven him to make this phone call in the first place. “I take it you listened to our little offer, then?”

“I have questions,” he responded, not wanting to admit yet how tantalizing the offer sounded.

“We figured you might. Track records say you’re very thorough,” Natasha responded. “How can I help you, then, Steven?”

“Steve’s fine.”

“Okay then, Steve. Now what about those questions?” She kept her tone even, but the amusement never left it all the same.

“The job description you gave was vague at best,” he responded. “I’m going to need more before I agree to the job.”

“My, my, requesting sensitive, potentially confidential information before you’ve officially signed on? You’re bold, Rogers.”

“What exactly is it that you want me to do?” he asked. “You’re asking me to go against the law for you, the least you can do is offer me some information on what I’d be doing before I take that step.” They were asking Steve to turn his back on his family, even without the ultimatum that Fury had given. He wasn’t going to budge on needing answers so easily.

“Well, I suppose sometimes rules must be broken,” Natasha responded, her tone almost flippant. “Though I will make it clear that if you give away any of this information, I might be forced to come after you, Rogers.”

“Just tell me.”

“No need to get your underwear in a twist.” Natasha’s tone was more amused than annoyed. “My employer is contacting you because we have an issue. Our company is working with numerous bodies to help eliminate the threat of villainous enhanced.”

“I have no interest in working with-”

“Our methods work no differently than the heroes of old,” Natasha offered, cutting him off. “The goal is to disable and bring in, same as the policy’s always been. We simply want to do so without forcing retired enhanced to give that up, especially in times where that may not be looked upon so favorably.”

“But you’ll pull me out of retirement?” Steve asked her, keeping his tone guarded.

“Sometimes these things can’t be avoided,” Natasha sighed. “We needed the help of someone, and with your track records and skills you seemed the best option. You also appear the sort who’d be eager for the job.”

The last part of the statement struck Steve as odd. He wondered how much Natasha knew, that she could make that claim. Of course he’d felt restless since the act had passed- he’d never been any good at standing down from a fight and being directed to do nothing had been a heavy blow. Even more so, an order that he couldn’t protest without the risk of putting his family in danger. Steve had felt muzzled and shackled by ERA’s restrictions and what the punishment might do to the fragile thing he had gained in its wake- his family. The thought were accompanied by a wave of guilt for even being upset over it when he’d been gifted with Bucky and their children.

“One of our newest projects has been an android whose skills might prove useful in this area. However, we are having some issues with it. That’s why we’ve called you in.”

“Isn’t there someone there that can take care of it?”

“Trust me, Rogers, if we had someone I wouldn’t be calling you,” Natasha responded. “The android is currently posing a great risk to our facilities and the people within them. We need it taken care of quickly.”

“How quickly?”

“We’d be sending a jet for you tomorrow morning. We believe we can hold it off in that window of time, but not much longer.”

Steve chewed on his lip for a moment. That was… a quick turnover. The risk to people only fueled his need to be involved. He couldn’t in good conscience push this away if people were going to be injured because of it.

“Now, does that give you enough, or do I need to divulge even deeper company secrets?”

“What about my family?” Steve responded. “This wouldn’t just be a risk to me. It would be a risk to all of them as well.”

“My employer wishes to keep this job as under the radar as possible,” Natasha offered. “We understand that you were recently terminated from Hammer Industries?”

“Yes, but-”

“You haven’t told your family yet? That makes all of this much easier. We’ll simply set it up as a business trip for Hammer Industries. You’ll come here for a few days at most, take care of our little issue, and we’ll send you on your way for the time.”

It all sounded easy enough, the way Natasha was putting it. He could do the job for them without his family having to know… One job and he could put his nose to the grindstone about finding something real to take its place. Desire for the work he’d once done pooled in him, an ache that became unbearable in the face of something that could change it. For the moment, the guilt of hiding this from Bucky flickered away.

“How would I get there?” he asked.

“Leave all of that to me. Should you agree, I will send you all further details,” she offered. Something in her voice said that she’d figured she’d already won. “What do you say, Rogers?”

Steve thought it over for a moment, both sides now coming to war with Natasha’s question. The money would give their family the boost it needed, an assurance with both parents out of work. That thought, however, was soured by the lies it would require him to tell. Then there was the matter of saving people. He couldn’t, in good conscience, leave people to harm when he knew that was a possibility. He had to do _something_.

It was only one job, for now. Steve could do this once and then put it behind him. He glanced back once again at Peter, the boy still sleeping in his carseat in the back. He shifted a little, and something about that small motion brought a stab through him.

If he screwed this up, they’d all lose everything.

“I’ll do it,” he responded. In the end, the inability to turn away from a situation where others may be in trouble coupled with the financial assurance. One last mission wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

“Great,” Natasha offered. “I’ll have information sent to you this afternoon. We look forward to working with you. Good day.”

Natasha had hung up the phone before Steve had a chance to say anymore. The deed was done, and tomorrow morning he would be heading out to parts unknown for an entirely new job. At the very least, he had better news to report to Bucky when he got home.

Turning the car back on, he started that direction feeling slightly lighter but no less conflicted.

* * *

 

Steve took a deep breath, steeling himself in the car the way he once had before diving into a mission. He had to banish the dark pools of guilt swimming in his gut, send it packing before it clouded his thoughts any further. Bucky would smell it on him before he even opened his mouth if he couldn’t get it under control. The nervous energy of _excitement_ , the sense of thrill that he was very soon going to have an opportunity to stretch some muscles, and the possibility of doing _something_ more fulfilling mingled together, working as both a help and a hurt.

Peter stirred in his carseat, making the small sleepy noises of a toddler coming out of a brief nap.

“A..ma? Mama?” the question came with further shuffling in the back seat, the word pulling a fond smile, fatherly pride mixing with amusement. Bucky might have hated the name (and Steve still needed to talk to Pietro about starting that in the first place), but he’d melt when he found out that Peter asked for him first when waking up.

“Just in time to go see him,” Steve offered with a smile before he slid out of the car and extracted Peter from his seat to head back into the house.

He tried not to think about the fact Bucky was preparing for a big conversation, while trying he tried to riddle out just what to say about the new offer.

“We’re home!” Steve offered, joined in his announcement by a joyful cry from Peter, who threw his arms up as if presenting himself to the empty entryway. Bucky plodded in a few moments later, dressed for a day of working around the house and pulling damp hair back deftly with one hand.

“I thought you’d never get home,” Bucky responded with mock relief, rolling his eyes before he stepped forward to give Steve a peck on the cheek.

“Hey, baby.” Bucky’s face and voice really lit up for Peter though, his excitement earning a trail of excited babble from the one year old as he attempted to form words for him. Peter reached out, opening and shutting his hands in a clear gesture of want, and Bucky reached out for him in turn. Steve helped shuffle the child from his arms into Bucky’s, carefully nestling him in the crook of his husband’s arm in a practiced hand-off. Bucky leaned down to kiss Peter’s forehead, his own fond smile forming at the way Peter squealed happily before curling against him and fisted a tiny hand into Bucky’s shirt.

“I missed you,” Bucky murmured, rocking him side to side.

“I missed you, too,” Steve cut in, smile teasing. The tenderness of Bucky’s expression evaporated at the comment, fading into a look of exaggerated exasperation.

“I say good bye to _you_ , every day,” Bucky responded with a snort. It was clear, however, that Bucky wasn’t used to breaking from his normal routine as the primary caretaker of their youngest. “Now, this talk. Should I find him something to occupy his time?”

Steve tried not to look taken aback by how quickly Bucky cut to the chase, though he shouldn’t have been surprised. Bucky didn’t often like to beat around the bush, and Steve had already more than maxed out on his ability to push this conversation back. He still wasn’t sure he’d sorted out exactly what he was telling him.

“Living room?” Steve offered weakly in response, conceding to Bucky’s request. Bucky gave a small nod, his expression already turning serious in a way that played up all of the nervous tendrils Steve had managed to bat back before coming into the house.

Bucky bent down to carefully deposit Peter in front of his newest favorite toy, the colorful collection of plastic pipes earning delighted noises as Peter took to play. Bucky lingered with him for a moment, almost appearing hesitant. He ran a hand through the curls on the child’s head before he stood up and found himself a place on the couch. Steve took the seat next to him, angling his body so they faced towards each other.

“When are we moving?” Bucky asked after a moment’s silence, and Steve could see the fears playing over his face, far more prevalent than the flickers of irritation.

“Moving?” Steve asked. “Why would we be moving?” Thankfully, he didn’t have to lie about _that_. It had never been on the table.

“That look you had on your face,” Bucky responded, and Steve could tell by the look on his face he still wasn’t convinced. “If it wasn’t enough to see it on yours, Wanda looked like she was mighty uncomfortable all through dinner last night. Hardly spoke to me before she went off to do her homework.”

“Well we’re not moving,” Steve offered him again, _Though you aren’t far off._ He cut the thought short as if Bucky was the one who could pick up on such thoughts and not their teenage daughter.

“Then what happened? You’re not making me feel any more at ease.”

“I got called in at work,” Steve responded, cursing at the grimness his tone took. This wouldn’t be so difficult if he wasn’t a terrible liar and Bucky wasn’t so good at reading his tells. The skeptical arch of Bucky’s brow turned into a small frown at the statement.

“You did?” Bucky’s voice was no better at hiding his concern, though there was a bit of irritation there now. “What the hell did Hammer want now? I know you don’t see eye to eye but you give him your honest work and you haven’t missed a day since you started. What’s he got you for this time? Usin’ too many copies?” Seemingly over the hump of anxiety about moving, Bucky’s attention had turned instead to being righteously angry over Steve’s conniving employer.

“Buck, calm down,” Steve offered, a more genuine smile forming at the enthusiastically angry response. “It was… a good thing.” That technically wasn’t a lie. While the whole meeting had been infuriating, being free of Hammer Tech wasn’t such a bad thing now, in light of the morning’s developments. Steve could never have been happy working there, not as long as Hammer was content to commit injustices against the people he was supposed to be working to help. Why Fury had ever thought it would be a successful placement…

“A good thing?” Bucky’s brown arched skeptically. “When in the history of working at that place has being called in been a _good_ thing?”

“When I’m being offered a better job?” Steve responded. This was also true, even if it wasn’t _at_ Hammer Tech. If he could keep Bucky from finding that detail out, all would be so much better.

“A better job?” Bucky’s skepticism showed in his furrowed eyebrows and slight frown, the way it leaked into the slight waver of his voice. “Care to explain all this? Or are you gonna make me keep asking you all these questions?” There was an irritation to his voice and a storminess in his eyes that told him that Bucky was just about finished with Steve’s dancing around the subject. If he didn’t give him something of substance soon, Bucky’s temper was going to crack through.

“I was offered a new opportunity,” Steve offered, dancing through the complicated steps of picking his words carefully while also not hesitating enough that Bucky would grow suspicious of the why. “It’s going to involve some traveling, but it’s going to bring in a lot more than the desk job was. And it sounds better. A lot better.” He couldn’t help the tangible relief that came with that statement. The tension left him simply at the idea of reclaiming a part of himself that he’d long been told to wrap up and forget about.

“This must be some offer, if you’re grinning like this over something coming from Hammer,” Bucky offered in response, though the skepticism hadn’t quite left his voice. “Almost too good to be true. You certain about all this?”

“Buck,” Steve leveled him with a serious look. “It’s a good job. It’ll give us a little bit more in the bank. When’s the last time we went on a family vacation?”

“Yeah, and who’s fault is that?” Bucky shot back. Steve knew it was his; with the moving and everything else, they hadn’t had the extra cash around to take time for themselves. His job at Hammer Tech had only added to that with its exacting work hours and strict, nearly impossible vacation policy. He could hear the traces of annoyance there, byproducts of the wariness Bucky still hadn’t seemed to shake yet.

“I know, I know.” Steve raised up a hand to placate him. “And I know this will be an adjustment. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but I think it could be a good change for us. All of us.”

Bucky’s face maintained the frown for a few moments, still seeming displeased, before he finally allowed himself to cave with a small, wavering smile.

“You’re really happy about this job?” Bucky asked.

“It’s a good job, Buck. It’ll give us what we need,” he responded, supplying as much warmth in his voice as he could. He was thrilled about the job, more than anything Fury had shoved under his nose the past couple times, but he was still uncertain about sharing that with Bucky. Sharing that detail would mean sharing the rest, and with the Council’s close tabs on his spouse, they’d all be in the exact amount of trouble that he was trying to avoid.

“Think we can convince Sam to do some babysitting?” Bucky asked, a small half laugh.

“Aw, can’t handle being Supermom?” Steve responded, grinning unhelpfully as Bucky sent a glare his way.

“It’s bad enough-”

“That Pietro taught Peter, I know,” Steve responded, though he couldn’t help the chuckle that came with it. “We can ask Sam. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“Good. Because one arm against three kids isn’t good odds. And Peter’s not even walking yet.”

“He’ll be running around the house in no time.” Steve grinned at the thought, undeniably fond of their youngest. There was a small moment of sadness at the idea that Peter might take those first steps while he was gone… but this was necessary now.

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

“Wanda’ll help you out,” Steve responded. “She’s a good kid.” Even if Pietro and Bucky’s relationship was explosive at times, Wanda could usually be trusted to step in and help Bucky where she could. With Steve out more, he could only hope that she’d step up to help Bucky so that he didn’t get too overwhelmed and overloaded with tasks.

“They all are,” Bucky conceded, though there was a fond smile there. “Even when they’re being pains in the ass.” Bucky shot him a look in response. “And you’re the biggest pain of them all.”

“I haven’t heard you complain about that before,” Steve responded, the tension in the room easing as the playful mood took precedence once again.

“It’s this kind of shit that solidifies your place as the biggest pain in my ass,” Bucky shot back in response, the gripe half-hearted.

“Buck!”

“Don’t you ‘Buck’ me, you have every bit as dirty a mouth as I do,” Bucky shot back in return with a scowl.

“In front of our one year old? Who’s learning how to talk?” Steve questioned in response, and the indignation on Bucky’s face melted away almost as quickly as it had taken root. Steve couldn’t help but break out laughing, covering his mouth in attempt to keep the laughter from bursting forward. Bucky swatted at him.

“See? You _are,_ ” he responded, though even in his frustration Bucky hardly seemed able to muster a very convincing admonishment.

Seemingly on cue, Peter had abandoned the toys he’d been playing with on the floor to crawl across the floor to his parents. Plopping himself at Bucky’s feet, he reached his hands up in an entreating gesture, hands opening and closing.

“Mama? Mama!” Peter demanded, using the word he’d come to associate with Bucky in order to garner his attention. Bucky took a deep breath, preparing himself for the task of extracting the squirming one year old off the floor.

“Here, I’ve got it,” Steve offered softly, leaning to scoop Peter up and deposit him in Bucky’s lap. Peter squealed happily, curling in against Bucky’s chest as he wrapped his arm around him to secure him.

“I can do it, you know,” Bucky responded, frowning over at him even as he stroked his hand along Peter’s back.

“I know,” Steve responded. Even though Bucky had been disabled by that fight seven years ago, he had shown himself quite adaptable to a life with one less limb. He’d always been independent, and Steve had done his best not to step on that. “The thing is you don’t have to.”

Bucky’s face morphed for a few moment through unreadable expressions before it settled on something softer, loosening the tension that had built up in Steve’s chest.

“We’re good?” Steve asked him, figuring now was the time to ask. He needed to know, to establish things were okay between them.

“We’re good,” Bucky responded, smiling turning mischievous. “At least until the next time you do something stupid.”

“You think I’m gonna do something stupid, huh?”

“You took me in, didn’t you?” Bucky asked. “And three kids. All ‘cause you couldn’t leave well enough alone. Had to be the hero.”

“Buck…” Steve’s protests were cut off when Bucky leaned forward to kiss him quickly. The kiss lingered for a few moments until Peter’s gurgling caused Bucky to pull back. Steve was reluctant to part, happy to immerse himself in the moment. At the very least, the frustration that built up since he’d come home the day before seemed to have dissipated, leaving the air clearer. Bucky’s attention had already turned back to Peter, bouncing him in his lap to gain peals of laughter.


	5. I've Been Meaning to Ask You

The morning he was supposed to leave for the first mission, Steve found himself laying wide awake long before the sun had risen. Bucky was still sound asleep next to him, turned away though he’d still managed to slide across the bed enough that his back brushed Steve’s side. Steve tried to match his breathing to the deep, steady breaths Bucky was taking. Each intake of breath only seemed to add fresh fuel to the pit of nerves that had nestled deep in his stomach. When Bucky huffed a sigh in his sleep, rolling so that he curled in against Steve’s side, the pitch of nerves became almost unbearable.

Today, he was leaving for work. Today, Bucky thought he was going on a business trip for Hammer Tech— some conference about promoting better inter-office communication or something like that— when in reality he would be taking off to parts unknown to resume hero work. Natasha had been surprisingly thorough in her preparations for the mission itself. A new business suit, tailored to fit him perfectly, a car to pick him up and drop him off at home, even a stack of faked brochures and a phony website that he’d been able to show off to the family as soon as the dates had been set. The _other_ suit had been hidden away, carefully folded into his brief case where he knew Bucky wouldn’t look. Bucky, who’d been eyeing him like he expected some terrible news since before he’d even left for the batting cages, had seemed to sag in relief at the now tangible signs of something good coming their way.

Steve almost hated how easy they had made it for him to lie to his family, how little room for doubt or concern his new employers had left in the cover story they’d woven.

When his alarm finally did go off, Steve was already shifting out of bed before the noise even seemed to register with the other occupant. He’d already been sitting on the edge and willing himself to stand up. Bucky groaned in response, a noise of protest before his hand found Steve’s arm.

“Can’t wait five more minutes?” Bucky’s voice was hazy in half sleep. “It’s early… Kids don’t have to be up for an hour.”

“Buck, the car’s going to be here in half an hour,” Steve responded with a sigh, though a fond smile tugged at his lips. “Besides, what am I going to do for that five minutes? Let you drool on me some more?”

“I don’t drool.” The firmness of Bucky’s protest was lost in the yawn that broke halfway through it.

“Yeah, uh huh,” Steve chuckled, stroking his hair. “Go back to sleep. It’s only a few days.”

“Wanted to get up and see you off,” Bucky responded, rolling onto his back so he could prop himself up on the pillows.

The offer should have made Steve feel warm or affectionate, but it instead brought the coolness of dread. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Bucky to come see him off. The idea of Bucky standing on the curb, offering him a quick kiss and embrace before he got in the car was appealing. All the same, there was something about Bucky coming that closely in contact with the lie that left Steve feeling more uneasy than anything. What if it was Natasha driving the car? What if, despite all the assurances they knew it was a secret, whoever did come pick him up let something slip that caused Bucky to catch on to his lie? It wouldn’t take much to make the other wary and suspicious, especially not about the supposed promotion in a job he hated.

“You don’t need to that, Buck,” Steve responded, managing to put warmth into his voice. “You’ve got a full day ahead of you with all three of the kids.”

“You make it sound like I don’t do that everyday.” Bucky rolled his eyes, before offering him a smile. “I’ll catch up on the sleep later.”

“We’ll see about that,” Steve offered, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “I’m going to shower and get dressed. I’ll wake you up again before I go.” Bucky grumbled in response, but settled back onto the bed as Steve stood up and went to shower.

By the time Steve came out of the bathroom freshly showered, Bucky had rolled over into the warm spot Steve had left on the bed and was sound asleep. It wasn’t enough, however, to keep the other from shifting awake when Steve moved to gather his keys and wallet from the dresser.

“Buck…,” Steve offered with a fond sigh as Bucky rolled himself out of bed, still trying to blink sleep out of his eyes as he shuffled over. “I told you I’d wake you up to say good bye. You didn’t need to get out of bed.”

“You’re just as bad as the kids,” Bucky griped in response, sliding his arm around Steve’s waist so he could rest against his back. “‘No, don’t walk me to the door, _I’m fine_. You can just drop me off around the corner, Mom.’” The imitation, though lazy with sleepiness, was no doubt their oldest son, capturing Pietro’s irritation with the practice of someone who it was often directed towards.

“If it means so much to you, you can walk me to the door,” Steve chuckled. “I just figured you wouldn’t want to brave the cold in your pajamas to watch me get in a car.”

“Would feel better if I was getting in that car with you,” Bucky mumbled into his back, a note of weariness in his voice that had nothing to do with the early hour. “You should see if you can bring your spouse along on the next one. Promise I’ll clean myself up nice and good.”

The good feelings at the almost flirtatious banter dried up, replaced with the chill of dread. Bucky couldn’t go, he couldn’t _know_ what Steve was doing. If Steve got caught doing any of this, it would be one thing. If Bucky got caught, the consequences for his involvement would be much more severe. Steve’s failure would mean the family got separated again, but Bucky’s would see him separated and likely locked up again.

“Look, I know Hammer’s an asshole,” Bucky started, taking Steve’s sudden tension for concern over his former boss and what he might think of them.

“And what would we do about the kids? We couldn’t just leave them here.” Steve knew his response had flickered something new, a tightening in Bucky’s shoulders that hadn’t been there moments before.

“Would it be that hard to find a babysitter?” Bucky asked, frustration seeping into his voice with a sort of desperation. “Sam could take them, maybe. Or is that the job Fury’s picked for me now?” There was a bitterness there that surprised Steve.

“Buck…”

“Don’t ‘Buck’ me,” he responded, cutting him off. “It’s fine. I understand.” The resignation there sounded decidedly frustrated, carefully measured. Steve knew if he pushed further that he might get something out of him, but he also wasn’t eager to pick a fight when he was so close to leaving. He allowed Bucky the dismissal for now, marking it as something they’d talk through when he got home.

The decision was only further punctuated when, moments later, Steve’s phone buzzed on the dresser. Hammer Tech flared across the screen in the dark of their room, a call to work and a reminder of the lie. He didn’t need to pick it up to know that his rider was there. Bucky huffed a sigh, resting his head against Steve’s back for a moment before he let his arm fall loose, starting to pull away.

“Did you still want to walk me to the door?” Steve asked, aware of the small note of pleading in his own voice.

“Yeah, sure,” Bucky offered, the enthusiasm from earlier gone. “I’ll grab your suitcase.” Bucky opened the distance between them, leaving Steve’s back unexpectedly cold. He turned to grab his briefcase, briefly grateful that Bucky hadn’t offered to grab the smaller bag. The idea of him coming so close to the suit Steve had promised he’d never put on again left an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. At least this way there was some distance between them, a small comfort that made it seem a little less wrong.

The stopped at the doorway together, Bucky pausing for a moment before he took his hand off the handle of Steve’s suitcase. They stood in silence for a few awkward moments before Steve’s phone blared again, a second warning and a sign of impatience.

“Let me know that you get there in one piece, alright?” Bucky offered, not meeting Steve’s eyes as he busied himself trying to straighten Steve’s jacket with his one hand.

“I will,” Steve offered with a sigh, even those two words tasting bitter with the lie he knew he would tell. “I’ll be home in a few days.”

“We’ll be here,” Bucky responded, heaving a sigh as he finally looked up at him. Steve couldn’t tell whether the sigh was somber he was leaving or filled with the residual resignation he had at being tethered to the house.

Steve leaned in for a quick kiss, pulling Bucky in against him for just a moment before he let him go. Bucky let him slowly, reluctant.

“Goodbye, Buck,” he offered with an exhale of breath. “Please, pass that on to the kids.”

“I will,” Bucky offered with a small nod, shifting his weight awkwardly. “Bye, Steve.” He rocked forward to offer another quick kiss.

It took more willpower than Steve had thought to pull away, to take the steps back to open the door and gather his things. He glanced once more Bucky’s direction, earning a half-hearted and drowsy wave before he was stepping out onto the still-dark street and towards the dark car waiting for him at the curb.

* * *

 

The ride over to the airstrip after that was a quick one. The driver was not someone he’d met before- someone with about the same sunny disposition as Tony’s driver, Happy, but without the touch of familiarity. They didn’t say a word to each other throughout the drive, and Steve spent most of it staring at his phone in the hopes of some call or message from Bucky. With the way they’d left things, he wasn’t surprised none came. He’d probably launched himself into his morning routine with a vengeance, channeling his frustration into the job at hand rather than letting it fester.

The car pulled directly onto the airstrip, pausing in front of a small but luxurious private jet. Steve had been expecting one of the utilitarian stealth jets like the ones they’d used to use for missions. Tony had built them for Fury on his request, making them fittingly built entirely for transportation and not so much for the comfort of those being transported. As Steve settled into one of the plush leather seats, he almost missed the stealth jets’ stiffness that had just bordered on discomfort. It had kept him aware, alert for the mission at hand while the softer seat made him more eager to catch up on the sleep he’d missed.

He was surprised when the doors closed shortly after he’d entered without adding any other passengers. Steve hadn’t been surprised not to see her in the car this morning, but he had been expecting her to meet him at the airport for his travels. While they’d been in contact during the whirlwind planning of his first mission, the details she’d given him were pretty bare. They definitely hadn’t been enough to go jumping into the fray on. Steve would just have to hold onto the hope that he’d be in contact with her before they thrust him into a situation.

It also made it harder to find a distraction as the plane took off and carried him towards an uncertain destination. The guilt of the lie wore heavily on him when left to his own devices. He attempted a nap, but the churning in his gut kept him from lapsing into anything more than an uneasy pseudo-sleep. For all its luxury, the plane felt impossibly small when Steve was faced with the idea of being stuck on it for hours. A small note on the table by his chair informed him of the many amenities on the plane- an open bar, an array of snacks, internet, and a phone line.

Two hours into the flight, Steve finally broke down. The gnawing guilt of how he’d left things with Bucky converged with the much larger, overwhelming feeling of the lie he was telling. While he couldn’t break down and offer the truth about where he was, he’d feel much better if he could at least go into the mission on a better note with Bucky. Making use of the offered phone line, he dialed in Bucky’s cell.

The first thing he was greeted with when Bucky picked up the phone was Peter’s unhappy wailing.

“Hello?” Bucky sounded exasperated as he answered. “Who is this?”

“Buck, it’s me.”

“Steve.” The name came out as a heavy breath, not carrying the tones of joy or relief Steve had hoped he might hear. “I thought you weren’t supposed to land for a few hours.” Bucky’s voice was inconsistent, distant, and Steve figured he’d put him on speakerphone while he tried to tend to Peter. Even as he’d responded, Bucky’s words had devolved into a series of noises and hums trying to assuage the crying child.

“I had the option to call you and I left so fast this morning,” Steve responded. “I figured I’d try calling.” It was easier to go for the emotional response, allowing himself to be vulnerable instead of trying to fashion some lie about why he’d been able to call.

“I’d love to talk right now, but I really can’t, Steve,” Bucky responded, tone unreadable. It wasn’t quite the exasperated of someone still frustrated, but it didn’t carry as much sorrow as Steve might have hoped. “Peter’s refusing to go down for his nap and if I don’t get him down now, I’m going to have to wake him up to go pick up the kids. You can try calling me back when you’ve landed? He should still be down.”

“Okay.” Steve tried not to let disappointment lace his voice too much.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Bucky called over the renewed wails. His voice was coming closer as he moved to hang up the phone.

“Buck?” Steve jumped in to catch him before he lost the connection.

“Yeah?”

“Take care,” he offered. It wasn’t what he’d initially intended. Something about the excellent job he did as a parent to their children or some expression of love might have been more appropriate, but he’d floundered. The line went dead, leaving him feeling far more conflicted. The disappointment of Bucky’s inability to talk hit him deeper than he’d expected as he sank back into the seat feeling as If things were even further from resolved than before.

He tried to lose himself in the image of Bucky pacing the kitchen, Peter tucked into his sling so that Bucky’s hand was free to rub his back soothingly. He’d watched Bucky do it before, pacing their bedroom and rocking the distraught child as best he could, murmuring sweet nothings and assurances in the hopes of soothing him.

The image cut short when the whirring of a screen being lowered at the front of the plane shocked him out of the reverie. When the screen had finished descending, the lights on the plane dimmed and the screen itself flared bright white as it came to life. Shortly after, the blank screen was filled with the image of Natasha seated in some kind of conference room.

“Hello, Steve,” she offered. “I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you on your flight this morning. Things came up.” She shrugged as if to say, ‘What can you do?’. The greeting seemed almost too scripted. Steve wondered if Natasha was actually speaking to him or if this was some kind of pre-recorded message. “You’re almost here, aren’t you?”

“I’d be happy to tell you if I had any idea where I was headed,” Steve responded, a touch of sarcasm in his voice. Natasha flashed a brief, amused smile at the comment. The break in her reserve proved the live feed.

“Lucky for you I happen to have that information right here,” Natasha responded, holding up a document that had been on the table in front of her. “Only about… half an hour left. Getting restless there?”

For all that Steve could hardly say he knew her, Natasha’s general demeanor had endeared him to the woman from their first phone call. Her sense of humor worked well to counteract some of the waves of anxiety and guilt that threatened to overwhelm. He liked to think they might be friends when they met in person.

“Ready to get to work,” Steve offered her in return. “I’m hoping you didn’t just call to give me a travel update.” There was a hint of joking in his voice, but underlying that was a determination to get to work. This was the briefing he’d hoped for, an opportunity to really prepare himself for the task ahead.

“Thought you might be getting a little lonely up there,” Natasha offered with an arched brow before she looked down to shuffle through the papers in front of her. “As we discussed, you’ve been called to help us dispatch of an errant experiment.”

Her words were punctuated by an image showing up on the screen beside her. For all intents and purposes, the experiment looked human. Its appearance seemed based off the image that had become associated with ‘enhanced’ in the years following the ERA. Tall, muscled, with a shock of thick, dark hair atop its head. Handsome and confident in its bearings, it was hard to believe that the appearance had been crafted in a lab and wasn’t human. They’d even dressed it up in the body-hugging material of a superhero suit, complete with a mask across its eyes as if to mar its identity.

“As you know, our company has been working on an android capable of standing on equal footing with an enhanced person. Ideally, this means they’ll do all the dirty work when villains decide to rear their ugly heads, letting enhanced enjoy their retirement.” While the explanation probably deviated from the formal script, there was a look in Natasha’s eyes that betrayed all the sarcasm her voice wasn’t allowed to.

“But?” Steve prompted forward. If this was just about an android that was designed to help round up villains, then they wouldn’t have called him in.

“There’s always a but, isn’t there?” Natasha mused. “The latest test subject, the one pictured, has experienced a glitch in its programming. Instead of responding to threats from an enhanced gone rogue, it is targeting things at random. This presents two problems: it is too strong for our normal security forces to take down, and since it’s currently running loose on our island, the possibility for damages to our personnel and projects is great.” Natasha flashed a few images of the same “man” in various positions on the island along with aftermath images of where it had blown through.

“That’s where you come in,” she continued. “We’ve called you in because of your track record at handling issues with other enhanced without resorting to the most destructive means possible. If anyone can help disable the android without completely destroying millions of dollars of research, it would be you.”

“Where is it located?” he asked. The job sounded straightforward enough- not an obstacle he couldn’t overcome. He’d faced more terrible odds before.

“We’ve managed to isolate it out in a largely uninhabited part of the island, but there’s no telling how long it will stay there.”

“So make sure it doesn’t come back towards the complex.”

“Preferably. I don’t think our scientists would enjoy testing how their creation works on their own lab spaces,” Natasha offered with only the barest of snorts to give Steve a hint of her amusement. “As much as some of them might deserve to have their feathers ruffled.” She blew a breath out at that, a gesture that earned a small chuckle from Steve in return.

“So, what’s the timeline for all of this?” Steve asked, trying to pull himself back into focus. “If the android’s already out there, then we obviously don’t have much time.”

“The jet you are now is going to drop you off at the last known location of the android,” Natasha offered. “It will likely have cleared out by then, but it’s the best we can do. From there, do what you do best. If you finish fast enough, I might even be able to join you for dinner.” The decidedly flirtatious smile caught Steve off guard, and he ducked his head for a moment feeling the heat want to rise in his cheeks.

“Right,” he offered, straightening himself up again. He’d be prepared for that next time. “Is there anything more you can tell me about what I’m going up against?”

“It’s designed to have a fair chance against any enhanced individual- you do the math,” Natasha responded. “It’s fast, strong, resistant to a whole host of the typical powers, and with its programming malfunctioned it won’t hesitate to use lethal force if necessary. If the scientists have done their job right, you’re going to need luck on your side to come out ahead.”

Steve snorted at that, but before he could respond Natasha cut in again.

“Oh and try to be fast about it. It’s programmed to learn- meaning the longer you fight it, the more likely it’s going to find a way to defeat you.”

“So you want me to go up against an android designed to defeat enhanced, defeat it quickly, and hopefully not completely destroy it?” Steve asked, trying to keep the disbelief from ringing in his voice though there was certainly a healthy helping of sarcasm.

“Exactly,” Natasha responded, quirking one side of her lip up just slightly. “There’s a spot on it’s chest that they’ve adapted from Iron Man’s arc reactor.” She gestured to the depiction behind her. Sure enough, there was a triangular panel that glowed a dull blue in the center of its chest. “If you can manage to target this spot, you may be able to completely immobilize it. Good luck, Rogers. Hopefully I’ll see you tonight.”

With a wink that seemed decidedly more playful than overtly flirtatious, the screen went blank. Steve blinked, but with the limited information in hand he figured he best try to form a plan. He didn’t have a whole lot of time and the threat this android posed was a bigger challenge than he might have initially thought.

In what seemed like suddenly far too short a time, the small jet dropped a now-uniformed Steve off in a clearing on the island. It swept in only long enough for Steve to disembark before it took off again, disappearing over the foliage and into the air above. Steve took a deep breath, adrenaline singing in his veins already. It had been too long since he’d done something like this, and the anticipation settled into something that almost felt like home.

Steve had prepared himself for the days of old when the action would be in the midst of happening by the time he arrived. Some heroes excelled in stopping the damage before it began. Steve _wanted_ to believe he could be one of those, but he’d always excelled at making a difference he was in the thick of things. He’d been best at being the wrench thrown into a villain’s plans, the one who came to put an end to things when they’d already thought they won. He might not always have been able to prevent fights, but he’d earned his stripes in preventing them.

What he was left with when he was dropped off was a landscape free of immediate peril. Natasha had said that the android likely wouldn’t still be there, but the level of calm in this part of the jungle was almost eerie. Both the motions and sounds that swirled around him were nothing out of the norm for the environment. Steve would have to get moving if he hoped to find it before it targeted innocent people.

As Steve started moving, the noise faded even further into the dull thrum of background noise. Steve kept his ear out for any potential disruptions to this hum as he moved from the steeper slopes in the middle of the island towards the flatter areas of its edges. The jungle lay thick around him the coverage only seeming to dampen the noises and keep the heat and humidity trapped. It wasn’t long before he was breaking out in a sweat even in only the deceptively thin, breathable layer of his suit.

The island wasn’t very big, but it didn’t stop time from melting away in his search for the android until Steve wasn’t sure how long he’d been searching. With the facilities well off in the distance, it felt almost as if he’d been marooned on the island instead of brought here to provide help. He entertained the notion of how long it might take them to find him if he were to somehow get lost in the recesses of the trees, and how they hoped to recover the android when he did finally find and disable it.

The thoughts were stopped in their tracks with the sound of a tree crashing just off in the distance. He froze, listening for the tell-tale signs of shuffling.

Suddenly something bowled into him from the side, knocking the wind out of him as he rolled to the floor. Out of instinct, Steve latched onto the force that had bowled into him, pulling it into a scramble in the dirt. They tumbled over each other until they crashed into a tree, Steve groaning as the thick trunk jarred his shoulder.

It gave him a moment to glimpse his attacker as they attempted to scramble out of his hold. If Steve hadn’t been briefed before he landed on the island, he would have assumed that they’d been another person, likely enhanced. The android was even programmed to _breathe_ , its shoulders heaving as it pulled back from him though there was something just slightly artificial in the way its breaths sounded. From the dark shock of hair to the piercing eyes (a shade that was startlingly close to the steely color of Bucky’s) to the expression of fury on its face, it looked the part of just another human. As it pulled back, however, aiming to put space between them, there was something decidedly off. Its movements, though fluid, bore slight idiosyncrasies. While Steve couldn’t quite place them they immediately alerted him to the otherness of the android standing across from him.

He was only given a few moments before he was scrambling to the side, the android launching itself into another attack as soon as it had given itself the space to formulate one. He rolled, not even coming full off his hands before he scrambled back and around the tree… Only for the android’s fist to come sailing through a section of the trunk.

Natasha hadn’t been kidding about it being enhanced.

“Raaaaargh!” The angry growl accompanied it pulling back its fist again, the limb shattering through another section of the trunk when it became clear it hadn’t met its mark. Steve dodged out of the way, clutching to another section even as the tree shuddered under the assault.

He didn’t wait for the third punch, launching himself off the tree and deeper into the forest with as much speed as he could muster. It wasn’t long before he could hear the thunderous noise of the android crashing through the foliage behind him. Fueled with the adrenaline of the fight, Steve kicked himself up into the highest gear he could go. He wasn’t fond of running, but the android had clearly had the upper hand in that situation. He needed to find a place that evened that ground a little bit.

Steve ducked under a low hanging tree branch before he had an idea. Yanking it back, he listened for the sounds of the rapidly approaching android. As it blazed through the path, he allowed the branch to swing forward. It hit the android with a satisfying _thwack_ , earning another angry growl from the almost-too-human creation. With the android temporarily distracted, Steve launched forward to drive his own punch into its gut.

For a moment, Steve’s fist connected satisfyingly against the android’s gut. It felt surprisingly like punching another enhanced… until it didn’t. Thick metal lay just a few inches beneath, causing Steve to recoil as the pain jarred up his arm. Clearly, punching wouldn’t work. He glanced up, getting only a brief view of the glowing panel he’d been told to target before the android was winding up to swing at him. He dodged, managing to miss most of the blow. Pain radiated up his side as the android’s fist glanced along it. Steve didn’t have long to dwell on it before he was dodging another punch.

The fight continued in this way, Steve never able to put enough space between himself and the android to come up with more than a plan to buy him a few precious seconds to attempt putting distance between them. Where the android seemed capable of going on tirelessly in this manner, Steve could not. His body screamed with exhaustion, even his own strength, speed, and endurance tested by the android’s tireless energy. He panted, dragging oxygen in where he could all while trying to keep himself from getting caught any more directly by the punches and kicks of the thing he’d been sent to take down. Steve hadn’t given up yet, but the longer the battle went on, the harder finding a path to victory would be.

For all that both were landing hits, Steve felt he probably looked much worse for wear. His own skin would be bruised and battered by the end of this fight. The android, however, was showing small signs of the fight. While its skin did not blossom red with the promise of a bruise, the synthetic skin tore and fractured to reveal parts of the metal skeleton and synthetic muscle beneath. The android didn’t bleed, but signs of leaks and broken wiring showed its own wear as they duked it out between the trees and roots that littered the tropical floor. If it was coming at him hard, Steve certainly wasn’t allowing the swings to go unanswered.

Then there was the terrifying moment when Steve didn’t move fast enough and the android’s fist clenched around the back of his suit, yanking him back and off balance. Steve’s feet were pulled out from underneath him, the world was suddenly dizzying as he was whipped around and thrown into the trunk of one of the nearest trees. He hit heavily, only just narrowly managing to miss being skewered on a broken off branch as he did. He sank to the floor, trying to banish the cloudiness from his head and the pain from his body enough to stand and fight again. He wasn’t going to be taken down and bested by this opponent, not when he’d stood up to so many others before. Steve managed to push himself up to a standing position again, using the broken-off branch to help provide the support he needed to stand.

The android came barreling towards him with a force that said it was ready to end this battle. For a brief moment, Steve braced himself for impact, preparing himself for the full brunt of the android’s weight crashing into him.

It gave him a split-second idea.

As the android pulled back to throw its punch, Steve waited. Only when the punch was sailing through the air did he duck, revealing the jagged edges. They might not have been enough to pierce past the synthetic skin and muscle, but it was enough to provide a few moments where the stunned android had wedged the branch, still connected to the tree, into the substance they’d used to make it look so human. A moment was all Steve needed to surge upwards, driving his own fist through the glowing section on its chest to shatter the power cell inside.

The android sputtered before it collapsed against the tree, catching Steve underneath it. Power cut off, Steve was suddenly aware of just how heavy it was as he fought to free himself from underneath it. He let out his own cry, a mix of effort and pain as the jagged metal edges in its chest sliced through the fabric of his suit and left a bloody gash along his arm. Heaving, he only just managed to muster enough strength to push the android’s weight off himself before he, too, collapsed against the tree thoroughly spent.

But he’d done it. Even through the exhaustion there was the thrill of having successfully completed a mission once again.

* * *

 

It had taken Natasha surprisingly little time to locate them in the forest, though one side of her mouth had twitched upwards in an amused smile at Steve leaning against the tree. She’d shaken her head, told him he’d better rest up, and he’d lost consciousness. He woke up sometime later in a rather plush room in what he assumed was part of the facilities they’d been trying so desperately to protect. His suit had been folded on a chair and his luggage sat waiting for him on a stand.

Everything hurt when he moved. Even shifting slightly on the bed had caused bruises and jarred points to protest, reminders that the battle he’d just taken place in had indeed happened. When he glanced down at his arm, the gash that he’d received destroying the android’s power source had been bandaged neatly. The stark white bandages only made the bruises creeping elsewhere look darker, somehow more angry.

Even amidst the haze of injuries and waking up from whatever they’d knocked him out with, Steve found himself thrumming with pride. He’d gotten back in the saddle and he’d succeeded. The mission had been a success so far as he could tell. The ache that had existed since the ERA had gone into effect had subsided, leaving room for the thrill and pride in a job well done. Bone-weary and nursing bruises, he felt a sense of fulfillment.

“Rogers?” the phone intercom on the side table buzzed, Natasha’s voice filtering through. “I sure hope you’re up by now. I believe I promised dinner.”

“Okay, okay,” he sighed. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.” He would have much rather stayed in his room and banked on someone bringing food there, but there was an insistence in Natasha’s voice that told him he wouldn’t be getting away from the offer.

“I’ll be waiting,” she responded, her tone still decidedly light, before there was a click on the line that told him she’d hung up.

Steve groaned, pulling himself out of the warm comfort of the bed to drag himself to his suitcase. The only benefit, he supposed, was that his dress suit would cover a good percentage of the bruises. He caught glimpses of them as he shed the light shirt and shorts somebody had slipped him into (he chose not to think much about those details), the angry black and blue spreading along limbs and over his torso. He winced as each movement brought twinges of protest from the wounds.

Steve had never felt as at home in the slacks and dress shirts of business attire as he had in his hero suit. He felt more tense slipping into his clothing for dinner than he had earlier that day when he’d prepared himself for his first fight against the android. The only time he’d ever even remotely enjoyed putting this suit on was for the occasional “date night” with Bucky. When they’d adopted Peter, those nights had all but ceased as Bucky delved into the trials of taking care of a child while Steve pulled longer hours at work. The memory turned bittersweet as he tightened his tie, and he made note to call Bucky as soon as he finished his meal for the night. He hadn’t been able to call him when he’d landed, but he’d made sure to reply to Bucky’s string of texts after he’d woken up with the assertion he’d talk to him later.

When he’d finished dressing, he was prompted by an automated voice to join Natasha in the main dining room. The path had been short, if winding, but had led him to a sprawling room with an impressive array of windows along one side. The table itself took up a large portion of the center. It was filled with trays of food, looking more prepared for more mouths than the two chairs perched at either end of it betrayed. Natasha had invited him to eat, but what did that say of this mysterious employer? He found himself a mixture of curious and frustrated by the idea that the other might not be joining them.

Steve’s eyes were immediately drawn to the other wall. A constant swirl of motion, the entire back wall of the dining room glowed red-orange. Whether it was some art piece that imitated lava or an invention that had tapped into the volcano at the center of the island, the whole wall seemed to be lava slowly in motion. Steve had been just about to step forward and survey it closer when there was a rumble from the direction. He stepped back through the door, swinging it shut to observe.

The lava split somewhere near the center, creating a gap only just wide enough to form a walkway for a single person. Natasha slipped out through that entrance, straightening her clothing as she did. She turned back, however, to face into the wall. A second person was there, that much Steve could tell, but identifying them was almost impossible. They murmured back and forth for a few moments, before Natasha broke off to head towards the table. The wall closed again as if there had never been a gap.

Someone, likely the person who brought him to the island, had been there. The notion made him uncomfortable, warnings flaring in the back of his head. He’d never been comfortable dealing with people in the shadows, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to start now. As much as it bother him, he wasn’t ready to confront Natasha about it yet. With a deep breath he tried to push the uneasy feelings down before he let himself into the dining room once again.

“Well, well, don’t you clean up nice?” Natasha offered from the table when he made steps towards it. Her gaze was evaluative and teasing, but there was something about it that stopped short of being anything overtly flirtatious. It was a jab, likely meant to be friendly.

“It was the best I could do on such short notice,” he offered, allowing a small jab back even through the heavy weight of exhaustion. He didn’t feel like he looked any better than he had on the plane this morning, but he appreciate the attempt at humor. Natasha seemed to note his exhaustion, gesturing to the table.

“Please, sit,” she offered. “They put together quite a feast. I think our cooks weren’t sure how much a super soldier might eat after that battle you had.”

“That’s very kind of them,” Steve offered, ducking his head. It had been so long since anyone outside of his family had shown him any sort of special attention. He’d grown out of practice in receiving the kindnesses and gratitude of people who he’d done anything for. It took it a moment to even sink in that these were some of the very people he might have saved by stopping the android before it had reached the facilities. “Please, uh, please send them my gratitude.”

“Of course,” she responded. “In the meantime, help yourself. Most of the produce here has also been produced on site.”

“Really?”

“We take great pride in being able to dip into multiple fields,” Natasha responded. “My employer likes to have wide reach.” The mention of her employer brought a renewed wave of suspicion from Steve.

“I was actually hoping I’d get to meet them while I was here,” Steve offered, attempting to keep his voice guarded as he breached the subject.

“Ah,” Natasha responded, amusement flickering as if she’d expected such a question before her face grew serious. “My employer likes to keep a certain amount of anonymity. He likes his products to speak for themselves without being attached to anyone.”

Steve frowned, not quite pleased with that answer. At the mention of products, however, he figured he might step back into some of the conversations he’d had earlier on. “So what interest does your employer have in regulating villains anyway? Seems like a risky thing to get into with the Enhanced Relocation Act.”

“Steve,” Natasha offered, “Are you aware of what happens to enhanced who refuse to take part in the Enhanced Relocation Act? Especially those labeled as dangerous?”

“There haven’t been many…” Many villains had gone quiet about the same time as the heroes had. It had seemed miraculous, but then he remembered back to those early days. The punishments had been harsh, early on, for villains or heroes who made no moves to honor the new restrictions in effect. Bucky, still on very thin ice with the Council, hadn’t been able to sit through the news reports on such events. He’d never found out what had really happened, and when the incidents had died down, they’d come up with their own explanations for what had happened.

“The look on your face tells me you remember the early days,” she offered him. “The Council and the ERP made sure to come down quickly and harshly on all who opposed their new statement. As you can imagine, that control has become lax over the years. While most enhanced such as yourself have more or less settled into what society wants, there still always exists a threat out there that they won’t. We’ve seen these incidents pop up in small, concentrated doses and our aim is to keep them from growing to a point that would upset the balance.”

“That android really packs a punch,” Steve responded. “What makes your employer think that his methods are any less extreme than what the Council might use to control enhanced people?”

“My employer has no illusions about working against the Council,” Natasha said. “What he hopes to do is give them an alternative that keeps as few enhanced from needing to get involved as possible. We discussed this briefly on the plane this morning. He hopes that in crafting the androids, there will a peaceful solution. Heroes won’t get hurt or have their covers blown, as we know that the ERA isn’t going to go away anytime soon. In addition, they can send the android into more dangerous situations because it is simply that- not human. They can go in and neutralize the threat, bringing them to the Council to be held. We hope to minimize the effect on life and injury as much as possible.”

“If your employer is taking such humanitarian efforts, then why hide?” Steve responded. “It makes it sound like he has something nefarious up his sleeve, with all of this. It’s too good to be true.”

“He has his reasons,” Natasha responded. “But I assure you, he has the world’s best interests at heart. He only hopes he can find people who have the same goals in mind.” She looked pointedly at him, as if she expected that he be one of those. Steve wasn’t entirely certain, the whole thing leaving uneasy feelings in his gut. There were too many factors, too many places it could go wrong. It could be abused, where the ERA was already an oversight that he hadn’t agreed with since day one.

Protecting people was one thing, but if they’d allowed them to continue their work they might not be arming up for some kind of villain uprising.

“I’m sorry, Rogers. I wish that I could give you more, but as I said my employer wishes to keep things as anonymous as possible.” Natasha did look, at least minutely, sorry for not being able to give him the answers that satisfied him. It made Steve wonder how much she actually knew besides what she was told to tell him.

“So what’s next then?” Steve asked with a sigh, conceding that for now.

“My employer would like to keep you on his payroll,” Natasha responded. “It would involve another handsome sum. You’d be on call, mostly, but we have facilities near your residence that you could use to train, nap, escape family responsibilities- whatever floats your boat. He doesn’t foresee having need of you again, but for now he’d like to play it safe. Seeing as you are currently in search of employment, he hoped that you might find this deal agreeable.”

The internal war started up again as soon as the offer was on the table. Things here did not seem as straightforward as they might once have, but the offer of a substantial pay raise to train and be kept on call was a blessing. There would be no job search to conduct in secret, and as long as there was a place for him to go each day he might be able to hold onto this for a while. Financial stability was nothing to sneeze at, either. Whatever was going on here, he could take the time to figure it out. If it was something truly nefarious, he could expose it. The strong pull to do hero work once again also thrummed in the back of his mind.

He’d stick true to his ideals, and that’s what mattered. Steve would not be bought out if it turned out the company was into something terrible. But for now? The offer of financial stability wasn’t something he could turn away from.

“I’ll take it,” he responded, not sure whether he felt like he was conceding to something or excited by the job. Only time would tell.

“Great,” Natasha responded with a smile that almost seemed genuine. “I’ll have the contract dropped off for you to sign before you leave in the morning.”

“Thanks,” he responded with a nod. The morning departure was a bit earlier than he’d hoped with the collection of bruises that needed healing, but a good night’s sleep and the plane ride home should give his increased healing speed the time it needed to do the job.

“Now is there anything else I can help you with?” she asked as Steve’s attention finally drifted to the trays of food that had been set out on the table for their perusal. He was starving, and with the smells of food drifting up, he was only too eager to dig in.

By the time he got back to his room later that night, the exhaustion of the day had settled in with the drowsiness that came with being full. To exhausted to manage a phone call, Steve shed his suit, hung it back in the closet and rolled into bed with his phone to text Bucky instead. They fired a few texts back and forth about his trip home and how the day had gone before sleep claimed him.


	6. It's Time to Engage

Adrenaline was still singing through Steve’s veins from the successful mission even as the driver pulled up to the house. The house was dark, save for one light in the living room. A glance at the clock on the radio told him that he’d landed much later than he’d imagined he would when he’d told Bucky he was coming home that morning. He should have expected it with the delayed start they’d had that morning. Natasha had come bearing her employer’s apologies that a sudden issue had come up and the jet wouldn’t be available until later in the day. Though he’d talked to Bucky soon after, the delays had taken even longer than he’d guessed. Truth be told, he’d been glad for the extra hours to heal before facing his family. The dark skies and house did little to push the hum of exhaustion past the sense of fulfillment that he hadn’t experienced in what felt like a lifetime.

Steve attempted to shut the door gently as he came into the house, removing his shoes in the entryway to minimize the noise. As he passed the living room, he found Bucky sprawled across the couch, breath soft in sleep with a book splayed open on his chest. Steve’s face softened at the image, pausing at the room’s entrance. It wasn’t often, anymore, that the stress melted off Bucky’s face. Even with all of the clever inventions Tony had devised to help him around the house, the transition to stay-at-home parent had put more on Bucky’s shoulders, especially with the needs and demands of an infant.

Bucky shifted on the couch, book sliding off his chest and clattering to the floor. He started awake, eyes blowing wide before they caught on Steve. The alarm he’d felt shifted away into a warm, tired smile.

“Welcome home,” he offered around a yawn, which only pulled a brighter smile out of Steve. He closed the distance over to the couch, allowing himself to sink onto it as Bucky shifted back up to a seated position to accommodate him.

“You didn’t have to wait up for me, Buck,” Steve responded, voice warming a touch with fondness.

“It was your first trip of this new promotion,” Bucky responded. “Wanted to give you a treat when you came home. Cook you something real nice in celebration.”

“Awww, Buck,” Steve smiled despite himself, warmed by the gesture. “That’s sweet, but why don’t we leave that for the morning? Wouldn’t want to burn anything.”

“Asshole,” Bucky snorted in response, though he had to stifle another yawn.

“C’mon,” Steve gestured towards their room with his head. “I think the bed’s calling me more than the kitchen.” Now that he’d come back into the house, the hum of adrenaline was starting to fade, replaced with the weariness of doing something he’d been long out of practice in.

“Oh, the bed?” Bucky’s eyebrow arched and he let his teeth sunk into his lower lip playfully.

“You think you could stay awake long enough?”

The moment, however, was interrupted by the sounds of exaggerated gagging from somewhere just down the hallway. Bucky’s eyes snapped towards the hallway, playfulness gone in the wake of his aggravation.

“Pietro!” he snapped.

“You couldn’t at least wait until you got into _your_ bedroom?”

“Pietro,” Steve sighed, “Come on out. You’ll wake your brother. Wanda, you too.” It took a moment, but the two slipped out from behind the wall slowly. Where Bucky shot them both a fierce glare, Steve’s face was far more firm and yet not much less disapproving. Wanda, at least, had the good sense to avert her gaze in apology.

“It’s way too late for both of you to be up on a school night,” Steve offered, voice surprisingly eve as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Care to explain?”

“With the way _he_ was going on about it, I thought there was going to be some kind of-” Pietro’s muttered comments were cut off by a quick elbow in the side from Wanda.

“We heard you come home. We wanted to know how it went,” Wanda offered in recovery, though there was a note of sincerity to her voice as she caught eyes with Steve. The look made him vaguely uncomfortable, the notion that she might be seeing through the lies he was telling always something on the forefront of his mind. Whether she could or not, Wanda was giving no inclination beyond her basic curiosity.

“Yeah, well, he can tell you two all about it in the morning,” Bucky cut in, frustration still riddled in his voice as he stood from the couch, fixing their children with his own brand of a cross look. “You should both be _in bed_ now. Like I sent you a few hours ago. Good night, Pietro. Good night, Wanda.” The words were clear enough, delivered with a finality that boded no argument. If that wasn’t enough, the drop in temperature in the room added a punctuation to the orders that only cemented Bucky’s mood. Pietro’s mouth opened a sliver, but the glare and the crackling sound of ice forming along the lampshade resulted in a scowl before he turned back towards his room. Wanda, at least, had the good sense to offer another apologetic look before she disappeared down the hallway again.

As soon as the kids were out of sight, Bucky heaved an exhausted sigh, shaking his head as the tension came out of his shoulders. As the tension melted, so did the small pockets of ice that had formed as the temperature once again rose to something more comfortable. It had been a long time since Bucky’s powers had reacted so severely to his emotional state, something that only warned Steve further of where his mental state might be.

“Buck-”

“Let’s go to bed,” Bucky responded before Steve could get more than his name out. The playful, affectionate mood of a few moments was gone, disappearing in the face of the exhaustion that settled back into his features. Steve was reminded, once again, of how much work Bucky put in at home, of how much the responsibility of their three children had fallen on him in the wake of Steve being the one with the full time job.

“You know, with the money this new position’s bringing in, we could hire someone,” Steve offered, wanting nothing more in that moment than to make something easier for Bucky in this mess he’d created. A mess Bucky wasn’t even entirely aware of.

“Hire someone? To do what?” Bucky asked him in response, the cold sting coming back into the air almost immediately. “Take care of the kids so I can sit around on my lazy ass and do nothing?”

“No, Buck,” Steve started, surprised and thrown off by the level of irritation that seemed to come at the suggestion, the fight flashing in Bucky’s eyes. “It would give you an opportunity to get out more, have time to yourself. You could find work without the help of the Relocation office.” That’s what he was doing, now, not that that was common knowledge. Bucky spent so much time in the house, with the kids, it was only fair he get the opportunity to break out of that now that they could afford it again (for how long, though, he wasn’t sure).

“I _can’t_ , Steve,” Bucky responded, the irritation merging with something almost desperate. “Or did you forget that they didn’t grant me former hero status? I’m not allowed to do anything without their _approval_. They have to be involved.” The downtrodden emotion in his voice only seemed further accented by his breath coming in visible puffs as the room remained frigid.

Steve hadn’t forgotten, but it had fallen somewhere in the back of his mind with the newfound hope in his own situation. Even before the ERA had come into effect, Bucky’s life and future outside of a holding cell had been at the whim of the Council. Their life together had granted him some kind of freedom, but the black mark of having been an unwitting player for the other side had left him with precious little in reality.

The suggestion to contact them and tell them about their changed situation was on the tip of his tongue before he realized it wasn’t an option. This new job, whatever it might turn into, would most certainly not be sanctioned by the Council. If they found out that he was doing contracted hero work, he doubted Fury would wait until the next time he outed himself to separate the family. If he wanted to keep them together…

“I’m sorry, Buck…” The words came out as helpless as he felt, and he shifted awkwardly on his feet, staring down at them when his sorrow made it impossible for him to keep his eyes on Bucky any longer.

“Let’s just go to bed, alright?” Bucky offered in return, his tone a mix of so many emotions that Steve had a hard time picking through them in his own exhaustion. Prevalent enough, however, was Bucky’s own exhaustion, directed somewhere between the topic at hand and the late hour. “M’tired, you’re tired. We’ve both got to be up in the morning. No use gettin’ all in a twist about something we can’t change.”

Bucky attempted to offer him a weak smile, an attempt to prove he was okay that didn’t quite find its way into his eyes and the rest of his face. Steve could only nod quietly in return, indicating for Bucky to lead the way to their bedroom. Bucky leaned down to pick up his book and place it on the end table before he took the lead, his earlier burst of energy seeming drained out of him again. While he seemed to be relaxing, the temperature wasn’t climbing nearly enough to give Steve the impression he’d found peace.

“Bucky…,” Steve started, his voice trailing off when he felt the words start to slip away. What even could he say right now? This is where, as a married couple, he would have assured Bucky that he loved him, attempted to soothe the hurt he could feel radiating off the other. He’d said it before, as a husband should, but it had felt like part of the act they were supposed to be putting on for others. It left an uncomfortable swirl in his stomach, a longing to say _something,_ though with things as they were it didn’t seem prudent.

Bucky turned around, some kind of hope flickering in his eyes at being called back.

“I love you, Buck. You know that, right?”

The look on Bucky’s face morphed rapidly, awed for a moment before something twisted. He bit his lip, but any touches of playfulness that had it had contained earlier seemed gone, the gesture used instead to bite something back. It was only there for a moment before Bucky attempted to pull the smile back onto his face, his eyes still slightly glassy.

“Steve…,” his voice cracked, sending a pang through Steve’s heart. Steve closed the distance between them, wrapping his arm around Bucky’s waist to pull him in close before he pressed their lips together. For all the uncomfortable, uncertain feelings that swirled in his gut, he wanted to banish that pained look from Bucky’s face.

Bucky was tense, his whole body seeming wound up in the sudden closeness between the two of them. For a moment Steve was worried he’d pull away, but then he seemed to slowly let go, sagging into Steve in a way that seemed both exhausted and in need of closing the distance between them as much as possible. He surrendered into the kiss, hand clenching into Steve’s shirt.

Steve pulled away, feeling like the breath had been pulled right out of him. Bucky bowed forward, forehead resting against Steve’s chest as his fingers continued to flex in the fabric of Steve’s shirt. His own breath came in fast catches of breath, leaving Steve floundering as he tried to guess the other’s mental state. The moment stretched on, the seconds dragging onward into tense moments as Bucky stayed curled against him.

When Bucky finally leveled his eyes back up to Steve, he only got a bare few seconds of steel grey before the other was lunging in for a kiss again. It was desperate, Bucky’s hand fisting tightly into the front of his shirt, tugging him in insistently with all of the strength he could muster. If they had not been evenly matched in strength, Steve might have been overwhelmed. Instead, it gave him the license to pull him in tighter with the arm wrapped around his back, cup his jaw with the other hand. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d allowed himself to be so wrapped up in Bucky, surrendered the string of emotions he’d never quite been able to work through. The room around them warmed rapidly once again, almost as if it, too, was being heated by the kiss. The occasional pang of cold still punctuated, but the overall warmth only confirmed for Steve that he was making the right move.

The noise Bucky made into the kiss was indiscernible, but it was raw and needy and… the note of pain to it, punctuated by another sharp needle of cold, caused Steve to pull back, trying to catch Bucky’s eyes with his own.

“Bucky?” he murmured, smoothing his thumb over the other’s cheek. “Buck, talk to me…”

“It’s just… been a while since you’ve kissed me like that,” Bucky offered, but once again the small smile he tried to offer was accompanied with glassy eyes. There was more there, but Bucky’s reservation made Steve wary of trying to pull it out of him now.

“Oh yeah? Well it’s been awhile since we’ve been able to find the time,” Steve offered instead, his own flirtatious smile attempting to call back some of the playfulness of earlier.

“Think we have a little more time now?” Bucky asked, a more genuine smile beginning to tug at his features once again. Steve felt a small weight come off his heart at that.

“I thought you said you were tired,” Steve teased, “and that we should go to bed.”

“And I think I could find a little more energy,” Bucky responded, seeming to slip back into the Bucky who had welcomed him home earlier. “All depends on whether you’re gonna give me good reason to.” The look he supplied was decidedly inviting, almost challenging now. Traces of whatever uncertainty had seemed to plague him had melted away, and Steve was finding it harder to resist immediately diving in for another kiss. The room warmed invitingly, egging Steve on.

Things seemed to hang frozen in time for a moment before the tension snapped and, in a whirl of quick stolen kisses and attempts to stay as pressed together as possible, Steve and Bucky found themselves falling onto their bed in a tangle of limbs.

“What’s this?” Bucky frowned, pausing suddenly as he worked at Steve’s shirt. Steve had almost forgotten about the cut, nearly healed but still visible on his arm.

“It’s just a cut, Buck. I brushed against something sharp at the airport. It’s already healing,” he offered, hoping the lie sounded genuine enough to Bucky’s ears. He willed that his bruises had healed enough that the other might not notice, hoped that the hours of sleep and resting on the plane had allowed his body to rid him of the marks.

“Sometimes I swear you go looking for trouble where there isn’t any,” Bucky snorted, the joke hitting a bit too on target. “At least it’ll heal fast.” Steve was grateful that Bucky seemed willing to let it slide for the moment, that there wasn’t more pushback about the injury. Steve pulled him into a kiss to close off the conversation, intent on using that to further distract.

With Bucky pinned beneath him it was easier to give way to the flurry of impassioned feelings that drew him to his husband. He could free himself of the details of their feigned relationship and enjoy how moments like these where the walls between them seemed to fade.

It had been like this between them for years. The kisses and affections meant to show the world they were a married couple had gradually built into something more. It had really only been a matter of time before they’d fallen into bed together. Once the line had been crossed, smudged into something almost indiscernible, it had been hard to pull back. A responsible person would have noted the added friction it was causing between them and done something before it risked exploding.

Steve didn’t _care_ , not when Bucky was so pliant, so enthusiastically willing as his arm slid up the side of his neck to cup the side of it. He hummed into the kiss, the hum taking on the deeper strains of a moan as their forms pressed more tightly together. Even that brief amount of friction, the intimacy of caging the other beneath him, allowed him to melt into each touch and kiss with increased fervor. It stirred up the pleasant warmth of arousal in the space just below his navel. Bucky’s foot skimmed along his calf before hooking round his legs, every bit as eager to draw him closer in.

In these moments, pressed together like this, it was easy to forget that the whole relationship was built on a lie, a false identity meant to help them better blend in. In these moments, Steve wasn’t sure how much false the lie was anymore. The enthusiasm with which they twined together, hungry and affectionate, seemed to say otherwise.

* * *

 

Bucky woke up the next morning tangled in the sheets with a still very much asleep Steve. His cheek was warm from where it had pressed against Steve’s chest, and this time he’d fallen asleep with his arm draped across his husband. He sighed, shifting again against the other’s solid frame, not even allowing himself to be bothered by the uncomfortable feeling of laying on the remnants of his metal shoulder. He dragged his toes along Steve’s calf, smiling softly when Steve shifted in his sleep against him.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he offered, shifting himself to plant a kiss on the edge of Steve’s jaw.

“M’not awake yet,” Steve protested, voice groggy with the early hour, eyes still not yet open.

“Well it’s time to get up,” Bucky responded, ribbing him gently with his knee in motivation. “The kids have gotta get up, which means I’ve gotta be up, and if you think I’m gonna let you lay around in bed while I do all that, you’ve got another think coming, Mister.”

“Not willing to negotiate five minutes?” Steve screwed his eyes shut tight, prompting Bucky to roll his eyes. Steve always did have a flare for the dramatic.

“Five minutes,” Bucky conceded, making a show of his sigh before he offered Steve a quick kiss and pulled himself out of bed. “But that’s it. If you’re not up by then, I’ll bring you Peter for his morning change.”

Steve groaned, making a grab for the sheets as Bucky slipped back into his pajamas so he could go wake the kids. He allowed himself one last fond gaze from the doorframe before he settled into his morning ‘war face’.

“Five minutes,” he reminded before he was slipping out the door to rouse Pietro and Wanda.

Bucky found it hard to feel the normal pinch of frustration, the drag of exhaustion, with the ever-present hum of emotion tied directly to the previous night. Sore? The ache only reminded him of how out of practice he was, how long it had been since he’d done anything of the sort. There was a sense of renewal, though, that turned the hum through him into something pleasant, a happiness that had seemed to float away on the winds all too quickly in recent years. Bucky wanted to grasp onto it, hold it close and bid it to stay. Moments like these tended to be so fleeting, a brief bubble before the fantasy collapsed.

By the time Bucky did finally come back into the room, it was with Peter tucked carefully in his sling to a Steve who had at least sat up in the bed. Peter, who had been sated with a bottle, nearly dropped it in an effort to wave his arm towards his other father, pulling a smile out of Bucky even as he held onto him tighter.

“Looks like someone’s excited to see you,” he offered with a grin, watching as Steve ran a hand through his hair and tried to settle it in an effort to wake up. The look Bucky earned from Steve was decidedly alarmed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Don’t worry, I changed him first. And fed him. So he’ll be all smiles for you.”

The grin that Steve leveled in response was the kind of smile Bucky lived to see on Steve’s face. Happy, adoring, and free of the cloud of stress that had seemed to follow him ever since he’d been given the job at Hammer Industries. The moment of awe came to a quick close as Peter lurched forward in his arm, threatening to unseat himself from the sling in his effort to close the gap between him and his father.

“Okay, okay. Hang on there,” Bucky murmured in response, shaking his head before he circled around to Steve’s side of the bed so he could hand the infant off to Steve.

“Da! Dadada da dada!” the sound burbled from Peter’s lips, some combination of baby babble and an attempt to address Steve. He clutched his bottle in one hand, the other seeking purchase on Steve’s chest. With a painless thwap, Peter patted against Steve’s chest, giggling all the while. Bucky softened further as it earned laughter in response from Steve and a gorgeously fond look.

“Not such a bad way to wake up,” Bucky offered, sliding onto the bed next to him. He allowed himself to bridge the gap between them as he nestled his head against Steve’s shoulder. Even though Steve’s attention was focused more fully on the child in his arms, Bucky couldn’t deny the comfort at how easy it seemed for Steve to accept his presence there.

“Not bad at all,” Steve responded, voice warm. “Two of my best guys right here.” He cradled Peter closer to him, littering him with kisses and earning squeals before his attention abruptly turned to Bucky, offering him a kiss on his temple.

“I heard that,” Pietro called from the hallway, breaking the affectionate moment before Bucky could try to piece through it.

“Two _of_ my best guys always means there’s room for more,” Steve called back to him, a slight note of teasing in his voice.

“I think that’s my cue I better get moving,” Bucky responded with a sigh. “You’ll have to tell me all about this conference of yours once I get the kids to school.”

“Tonight,” Steve corrected, and Bucky felt the shadows fall over his own face. “They want me to come into the office today.”

“Really? But you just got home,” Bucky protested. “Can’t even give you a day with your family before they’re dragging you back in?” Just like that, the illusion was falling again. Bucky could almost feel Steve closing off for all that Steve was trying to come across jovial. The gap made him feel uncomfortable; he had no idea how to drag it shut again.

“I’ll try to leave early, okay?” Steve offered. “We can take the kids out, really celebrate.” He shifted to offer Peter back to Bucky, and he had no choice but to accept him, tucking him back into the sling that kept him close to his torso. Peter burbled in confusion, looking back over at his father. “But right now, I need to shower and get ready. I’m running behind.” He peppered a quick kiss to each of their foreheads before he was disappearing into the bathroom.

Bucky watched him retreat for a moment, frowning at Steve’s retreating back. There was something off about the whole thing. Steve’s eagerness to get to the office job he hated, the high level of exhaustion, and the traces of almost-healed bruises that he thought Bucky hadn’t noticed were all blaring warning alarms in his head. He hadn’t wanted to rain on Steve’s happiness about the promotion, but the situation felt wrong in a way Bucky couldn’t quite put his finger on. Now that the first business trip was finished? The worries had resurfaced. They nagged at him as he went through the motions of getting the kids ready for school that day.

He needed some kind of answer, and he knew just who might have him for it. When he and Peter returned home to the empty house, he set Peter up on the floor with one of his favorite toys and called the familiar number of their friend/therapist.

“Care to tell me what Steve’s up to?” Bucky demanded as soon as the dial tone stopped, signalling Sam had picked up.

“What makes you think I have any idea what Steve’s up to?” Sam asked in response, his voice frustratingly, infuriatingly mild for the level of Bucky’s irritation.

“Because, despite the semblance of a marriage we have, Steve tells _you_ the things he’s too ashamed to tell me.”

“Well, you know about the new job,” Sam responded. “So there’s not exactly much new I have to report in the life of Steve Rogers. Sorry, Barnes.”

“You mean the promotion?” Bucky asked, voice somewhere between demanding and exasperated by the admission.

“New job, promotion, new position… whatever you want to call it, Barnes. The one that involves the bigger salary and the traveling and all that other sweet stuff. You must be so proud,” Sam offered all of it in an almost dry, monotone that only seemed to add to the tick growing in Bucky’s temple.

“He deserves it for all the crap he’s been putting up with from the asshole he works for,” Bucky settled on, still not entirely convinced.

“And you kiss your children with that mouth?”

“Can it, Wilson.”

“You ever think you might just be a little paranoid? I mean, I know Steve has pretty much written the book on trying to conceal his feelings to protect everyone else, but when it’s big? I think he’d tell you, man.”

“Isn’t it illegal or something to lie to your clients?” Bucky shot back. Normally he would have appreciated Sam’s questions and calm demeanor (well, mostly), but the lack of satisfying answers was only serving to increase his frustration. Steve was barely holding it together to lie to Bucky. He couldn’t imagine that he was managing to slip past Sam any better, if at all. Sam, sometimes, was better at getting answers out of the other (something Bucky was only willing to begrudgingly admit and never to his face).

“True or not, we’re not even on the clock, Barnes,” Sam responded with a chuckle.

“So if I ask you the same questions during our next appointment, you’ll have to answer them?” Bucky shot back, frowning. Sam was only further convincing him that he knew _something_ and whatever that something was, he wasn’t ready to tell him.

“Do you know anything about patient-client confidentiality, Barnes?” Sam asked in response.

“He’s not even your patient!”

“It’s my job to check in with enhanced individuals to see how they’re adjusting to regular life. As far as that’s concerned, you’re all my patients. Sorry, Barnes, but you’re not getting anything out of me,” Sam offered. Though his tone hadn’t changed much over the course of the debate, there was an air of finality to it that had Bucky bristling just slightly. At the same time, he knew better than to try and poke Sam for more.

“You’d tell me if he was going to do anything serious?” Bucky finally asked, cursing how pitiful the question sounded in his own ears.

“If Steve gets any closer than the average day to getting himself killed, I’ll drop you a line, okay?” Sam responded. “For now, I’d suggest relaxing. I’m sure it’s not nearly as bad as you think it is. He’s never been happier than he is right now, with all of you.”

“If he was _happy_ he wouldn’t be skulking around and trying to convince me he’s not doing something that he doesn’t want me to know he’s doing,” Bucky responded, fuming despite the vein of insecurity even _saying_ that hit. Steve seemed happy enough, yes, but even in the early days when they hadn’t known each other well he hadn’t lied about what he was doing. It closed Steve off from him in a way that Bucky wasn’t sure how to bridge, and pulled at the worries that had been wedged deep within himself from the moment he’d been set free from the SHIELD compound.

Steve had a choice. He _chose_ to take Bucky in, a fact that Bucky felt he could never repay the former hero for. Steve had saved him from a life locked up, but he’d done so at the sacrifice of his own ability to have a life. His life had been neatly grafted onto Bucky’s, wrapped up in the pretty package of a fake marriage. In saving Bucky’s life, Steve had sacrificed his own.

Bucky had spent seven years waiting for the day Steve would be tired of all of it.

“Woah there, I can hear the wheels in your head turning all the way across the phone,” Sam broke in, cutting off the train of thought before it could putter off any further. “I’ll admit I wasn’t too sure of the whole fake family thing when it started, but Steve’s a family guy and he’d move mountains for you and the kids if he felt like he needed to. For all the doubts Steve might have about the choices he makes, he’s never questioned this choice for _himself_. Worried about how it might be affecting you? Yeah. Worried about wanting to get out of there? Come on, man. It’s like you don’t know him at all.”

“I wouldn’t blame him,” Bucky muttered in response, not sure if he wanted it heard over the phone or not. He’d be perfectly fine to let the comment, and the wave of fresh feelings that came with it, go by unnoticed.

“Do I need to come over for a session?” Sam asked him, any exasperation he might have felt pushed out of his voice in the face of calm, genuine concern. Bucky hated him for it as much as he was grateful.

“Not unless you plan on telling me what Steve’s up to,” Bucky shot back in an effort to reclaim at least a small piece of his dignity. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. And Steve’ll be home with the kids soon anyway.”

“Well, if you’re ever not fine, you know where to find me,” Sam responded, letting it go for now. “I’ll be in touch. I want you to go enjoy the fact that that ridiculously handsome husband of yours took the day off to spend time with you and your kids. You all deserve it.” The assurance from Sam brought a brief mixture of relief and pride, glad for the family they’d managed to gather despite the bruises and scars that life seemed happy to heap on them. The anxieties might not have been quelled for long, but Sam was right.

“Thanks,” he responded. “You’re not bad, Wilson.”

“Not bad yourself, Barnes. Let me know next time you’re having a barbecue.” The comment was followed with the peeps signalling the call had finished, leaving Bucky in the empty living room by himself to wait for his kids to come home.

If Sam wasn’t going to help him figure out what Steve was up to, he’d just have to figure it out himself.


	7. And I'll Fix the Hobo Suit

The facilities they sent Steve to were easy enough to find. Natasha had been just as thorough in this as she had been with helping orchestrate the mission. When he arrived, he was greeted by the security guards at the gate as if they’d been expecting him. It hadn’t been much different when he’d arrived in the building either, another eager woman standing in the entrance to greet him.

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers,” she’d offered. “I’m Sharon. If you’ll follow me this way, I’ll give you a tour of the facilities and take you to see your new office. Everything should be set up for you, as per orders.” She’d given him a small smile at that and proceeded to take him around the facilities.

For all his suspicions about his employer and the work they did, Steve was surprised to find that the scientists and employees working in the building were decidedly focused on improving the world. Where he’d expected to find shady dealings and people with questionable morals, he found a group of people enthusiastic and open about the projects they were working on.

“Oh, Mr. Rogers, don’t touch that!” An eager young woman who introduced herself as Simmons had cried when Steve reached out to touch a seemingly innocuous looking disk on he table. “It’s not _quite_ ready for testing yet. A little temperamental still. But it’s designed to craft an invisible barrier around a target. Kind of like a mime, but much more useful for helping immobilize.”

This more than anything had helped back up Natasha’s claims that the group was only trying to humanely capture enhanced who might be a threat. While it had not completely erased his reservations about the person at the top, it did at least fill him with some hope that there were people here genuinely committed to something positive. As he was led to his office, he could feel himself easing in the environment just a little bit.

“You’re welcome to use the training facilities whenever you’d like,” Sharon had offered before she left. The facility had plenty of rooms and machines to help him hone his own skills, a fact that had been highlighted on the tour. “But be aware that you may have eager scientists coming to observe or study. This office is designed to be a bit of a safe haven.” It was definitely a step up from the terrible little cubicle he’d had at Hammer Industries.

Steve had only just settled in when his phone went off. He half expected it to be Bucky, eager for conversation after he’d had to put it off this morning. Instead, Sam’s name flashed across the screen on his phone. He frowned, picking it up.

“I know I was your friend first but whatever you’re hiding from Barnes, I’m going to have to ask you to stop,” Sam cut in before Steve had even managed to give him a greeting.

“Huh?”

“Look, man, I don’t know exactly what it is you’re doing right now, and I’m not sure I want to know,” Sam continued. “But not telling Bucky about getting fired from Hammer Industries? And then getting some job that sends you out on business trips right away? It’s got Barnes nervous and suspicious and that’s not good for him. For either of you.”

Steve’s nerves ramped up again, and he faltered trying to find a response to Sam’s comments. Sam was _right_ , but with everything as it was he couldn’t tell Bucky. Not yet, at least. Even though he felt justified in that decision, it didn’t stop the guilt from starting to nip away at him.

“I know, Sam,” he offered with a groan, dragging a hand over his face. “But this new job I have, they’ve asked me not to say anything about it yet. They thought it’d be easier if everyone thought I was still working for Hammer.”

“Well they clearly don’t know your husband, who is clearly a whole lot smarter than they give him credit for,” Sam responded. “And you can’t seriously think that’s a good idea? You don’t strike me as the kind who doesn’t like knowing who he’s working for.”

Sam was right, again. But Steve had that covered.

“That’s exactly why I need to stick this out. I’m going to figure it out, Sam, whatever it is that’s making them so secretive.”

“Dude, those days are _over_ ,” Sam sighed. “You’re not a hero anymore, okay? At least not that kind. You’ve got kids, a family that’s crazy about you. Do you really want to throw that away over all of this?”

He didn’t. The idea of losing any of his family over this ripped him to shreds. The kids meant everything to him. _Bucky_ meant everything. They were the driving force behind keeping the job as much as seeking out the company’s secrets might be. The steady paycheck was more than they’d ever seen. Steve had to trust that he could sort this all out before it came back to bite him too heavily. Hope that Bucky might understand all the worry he was putting him through.

“I’m trying not to, Sam,” he offered, finally, with a heavy sigh. “But it certainly helps that there’s a nice fat paycheck. We could use that.”

“You’ve always deserved more than what you got paid,” Sam conceded. “I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into before you go too far, okay? Think it over, and talk to Barnes. If anyone’s going to be in your corner and keep secrets for you, it’s him.”

“Isn’t that why I have you?” Steve joked with a half-laugh.

“I’m not the one wearing your wedding ring,” Sam responded. “I love you, man, but Barnes is the one who’s sworn to be in your corner. Fake-marriage or no.” Bucky had been in his corner, all these years. Frustrated with him on a number of occasions? Yes. But he’d never threatened to leave, never swayed from standing at his side.

“I’ll think about it, okay?” Steve could at least offer him that.

“Okay,” Sam responded. “We still on for the batting cages this week. I’d like to keep our streak of actually going alive.”

“You bet,” Steve chuckled. “I’ll talk to you later, Sam.” He hung up, then, leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh. He’d hoped he’d have a bit longer before Bucky’s wariness really caught on. He’d need to give moving forward some serious thought if he hoped to keep this all under wraps long enough to figure out what was going on.

Despite the hiccup with Sam’s phone call, the following weeks after Steve’s first mission were decidedly uneventful. The conversation with Natasha had given Steve a certain amount of wariness for his employer, but they had kept good on their deal to pay him well and keep up appearances. While he made no trips to the island facilities, they had no problem fitting him in at their smaller facilities. It had given him a place to train and a place to offer help from his own experience. The people who worked there seemed committed to keeping people safe and putting their best efforts forward towards their goal, which helped to ease some of his apprehension.

Though no big calls had come in, Steve focused on preparing for when he might be needed next. Over time, and thanks to his remarkable healing factor and strength, he found himself slowly pushing the boundaries of even his own enhanced abilities. It was likely he would never need to use them again, and he knew it was wrong to hope for the occasion, but it didn’t keep him from the rigorous training regimen he had set for himself. There was always the possibility that he could be called for something.

Things at home were better, too. Even with the front of his “office job”, Steve was able to craft his own hours and be home more. Finally able to pick up the slack where he hadn’t been available to help before. He picked the kids up from school, helped coax Peter back to sleep when he woke fussy in the middle of the night. Steve was able to experience cooking in the evening, working with Wanda or Bucky to prepare something for the family to enjoy.

With the lack of business trips calling him away and his presence at home, he’d seen Bucky blossom in ways he’d never expected. There were less fights with Pietro, less tension in his shoulders, and an affection that Steve had thought too much to ask for. The last walls that had enforced the marriage as charade seemed to slip away, giving way to something startlingly genuine. In those moments, Steve could almost pretend he didn’t see the wariness growing in Bucky’s eyes, a suspicion he knew he could quell but hadn’t quite found the words to do so yet.

He had all but forgotten about the scratch in his suit. When he was hanging clothing up in the closet, however, he noted the suit peeking out from behind a few of his shirts. The sleeve showed the gash, fraying edges along it only accentuating the tear in a suit that had served him well for many years. It occurred to him that, were they to call him, he might need his suit to be in functioning order again.

There was only one person to call for that.

“Well, if it isn’t Old Man Rogers,” a voice offered, amused familiarity dripping in Tony’s voice. “And what do I owe this surprise phone call? Barnes finally drive you up the wall?”

“No, Tony,” Steve offered in return with a small, uncomfortable chuckle. It dried up quickly, as he tried to settle on casual nonchalance. “Listen… I, uh, well I was wondering if you’re still… in the suit business?”

“The suit business? I’m currently wearing a lovely three-piece,” Tony responded. “I can hook you up with my tailor if you want. Consider it a gift, so you might actually show up at any number of these dazzling events I invite you to.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Steve responded, almost groaning.

“Oh?” Tony’s voice lilted upwards just a bit at that. “Whatever do you mean then, Steven? You’re going to have to be a bit more clear with me.” The feigned ignorance had all but disappeared in the over exaggerated nature of Tony’s voice.

“Tony, you know damn-well what I mean.” The frustration filtered into his voice, low but spurred on by the worry that someone might overhear. He could vaguely make out the noises of Bucky down the hall, Peter’s squeals and giggles indicating they were playing.

“Well, if you mean _that kind_ of work,” Tony offered, putting on the act of being put-out. “I might be able to help you. But seeing as you’re being all secretive about this in the way of ‘I-don’t-want-Barnes-to-know’, you’re going to owe me some kind of explanation. I’ll scratch your back if you sate my curiosity, okay?”

“Fine,” Steve responded, conceding to that. He didn’t like the idea of Tony worming his way into explanations, not with the very real possibility of his running his mouth to someone who who’d likely know Steve. Or worse, Bucky. “When can I come see you?”

“Mmm… for you? I’d say six months from tomorrow,” Tony offered. He paused just long enough that Steve swore he could feel Steve’s frustration before relenting. “I’m free tomorrow afternoon? I’ve got a lunch date with a potential new hire, but I should be back around three. That work for you?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Steve offered, glancing back over his shoulder again. Nothing outside seemed awry; a good sign.

“See you tomorrow,” Tony offered. “Tell my favorite godchild I say hello!”

“He’s not you-” But Tony had hung up before they could launch into the familiar argument about Tony’s supposed status with their children. Steve sighed, rubbing at his forehead for a moment before he carefully packed his suit away in his briefcase. It was just a patch job, just in case…

* * *

 

Steve had left his training session early and called to tell Bucky he was running late, just to give himself enough time for the meeting with Tony. The inventor and CEO was notoriously chatty and Bucky already seemed suspicious enough without having to explain why he had stopped by Tony’s. For all that they had worked together frequently over the years, their friendship was rocky at best. The less time they spent together, the more it seemed they were able to get along when they did. To Tony’s credit, he had been incredibly supportive of both him and Bucky, going so far as to help create any number of inconspicuous gadgets around the house to help ease Bucky’s life. Steve would forever be grateful, but it wasn’t the kind of gratitude or friendship where the sudden visit would escape Bucky’s already wary gaze.

That, and Tony liked to needle him about being working for the competition.

Nonetheless, there was a nostalgic tint to the nerves that swelled in his gut as he pulled up to the private parking garage under Stark Tower.

 _“Please identify yourself,”_ the automated voice intoned as he pulled up to the gate and rolled his window down.

“Steve Rogers,” he offered the voice, sitting forward so that the screen in front of him could catch his face. He watched as it scanned, deliberating for only just a moment before it was clearing him through.

“ _Welcome, Steven Grant Rogers,”_ the voice intoned as the gate slid open and allowed him access.

As Steve stepped into the elevator, his thoughts turned to the time when these trips had been a lot more frequent. Missions together had sometimes meant meeting here before they took off, and more often they’d meant coming back here to trade stories and share a meal afterwards. With the lack of missions and the family life, these sorts of things had given away to the numerous responsibilities he carried as a father and husband. As happy as he was with those roles, he couldn’t help the small bit of yearning that came with being back.

“Well, if it isn’t the good ol’ Captain,” Tony was announcing almost as soon as he’d stepped out of the elevator. “And what do I owe this unusual pleasure? Look, I really do enjoy those little family barbeques of yours, but this is much more my style. What can I do for you?”

“I just need a patch job,” Steve offered in response, moving to slip his uniform out just enough to show Tony the tear he had sustained fighting the android. “For old time’s sake? I didn’t mean for it to end up torn.”

“The patch job should be easy,” Tony responded. “Just about as easy as it is to read through that pack of lies. What have you been up to, Rogers?” Tony’s eyebrow quirked, everything about his demeanor nosy and pressing for more information.

“It was nothing,” Steve started, heaving a sigh.

“Wrong and wrong,” Tony broke in. “Don’t lie to me. We both know you’re breathtakingly terrible at it. I could sit here and nod and pretend to play around, but I’m much more interested in cutting through all the bullshit and getting straight to the truth, so, have you or have you not been resuming secret hero work?”

“Tony!” The exclamation labeled him as guilty as anything else that had happened, but the look on Tony’s face said he didn’t need Steve’s conversation to believe it as true. As it was, Tony stood waiting expectantly as he fumbled.

“I _made_ that suit, so I know you were doing a whole lot more than parading around in the house in it to get that kind of a tear,” Tony responded, looking pointedly at the sleeve Steve was still holding in his hands.

“Look, Tony, if I could tell you, I would-”

“Because that doesn’t sound completely sketchy at all. No sir.” The sarcasm dripped in Tony’s voice at Steve’s attempts to deflect.

“Of course I can,” Tony responded rolling his eyes. “That old, out-dated tech? I could patch it up in my sleep and craft you and your whole family new suits with _newer_ tech-” Tony’s eyes lit up at the idea, mind already clearly racing at the idea of being able to take on a whole family’s worth of new suits. The excitement seemed to carry him for a few moments before his eyes narrowed as his attention came back to Steve. “Don’t think you’re getting off so easy.”

“Patch the suit, we can talk about it when I come back to pick it up,” Steve offered, choosing not to explain that he’d tried to block off more time in the afternoon for conversation with Tony. He should have known that Tony was dig right for the semi-illicit activities he was taking part in, and he should have suspected that Tony would want to know more about what he’d been part of.

“Oh, come on, Rogers. Where’s the fun in that?” he asked, the protest in his voice coming off almost childish. “You know I used to be involved in this kind of stuff all of the time. You weren’t the only super I designed things for. There were some real innovations made, trying to account for all the odd things you could do. Just a shame I never got to get my hands on Barnes. For research, of course. Trying to accommodate that cryokinesis of his…” Tony rubbed his hands together, exuding excitement even at the idea of designing something for Bucky’s powers.

“Tony, you know full well Bucky’s told you he’s off limits. And the kids,” he responded.

“I still don’t understand why he’s so opposed. Just to be able to know what they’re capable of? You’d think he’d be jumping all over knowing their limits,” Tony protested, an age-old exasperation coming into his voice. He’d been trying to get Bucky to test the nature of Wanda and Pietro’s powers since they’d come into their family. “What I wouldn’t have given for a shot at designing those-”

“Just a patch job, Tony,” Steve responded, pulling the suit out of his briefcase to offer it to the other.

“If you say so, Commander Killjoy,” Tony responded, rolling his eyes. “I’ll have them ready in… oh, about a week? You should bring the whole clan around.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Steve bit back, the innocuous comment causing his own nerves to fire quickly. If Bucky found out about the patch job, he’d be suspicious. Bucky was already wary and he didn’t need to give him more reason to be.

“Really batting at the ‘no fun at all’ today, aren’t we?” Tony asked before sighing. “Fine, fine. Just let me know when you’re having your next little family get together or something. I’d like to see my godchild.”

“Don’t worry, Tony, we will,” Steve responded, shaking his head a little.

A week later, however, Tony had been called away on an unexpected business trip when Steve came to pick up the suits. It left the conversation thankfully un-had as Steve hung the old suit up in his closet, shaking his head at the two brand-new suits Tony had slipped into the case with it. Sleek and obviously updated, one followed his more traditional color scheme while the other seemed muted- cutting out the red and minimizing the white to give it a more stealthy feel. They were beautiful, and though he knew that it wasn’t guaranteed, he found himself hoping he might have be given an opportunity to test them out.

* * *

 

The phone call came from a restricted number just a few days after he’d gotten his suits from Tony. It had been about a month since the first mission. He hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up, but he picked up the phone quickly when it rang. Bucky was in the shower, Peter down for the night and Wanda and Pietro at some event at school.

“Hello?”

“Rogers? It’s Natasha. Are you alone?”

He glanced back over towards the bathroom. Bucky had only just gotten in and asked if he’d be okay with picking the kids up if they called early. That was usually a sign that the other didn’t want to be rushed in the shower.

“Yes, what is it?” he asked.

“We need you to come in again,” Natasha responded. “It appears the glitch in our system was not resolved. We have another prototype we need your assistance with. When can we have you here?”

Steve looked towards the bathroom yet again, weighing how angry Bucky would be with him if he told him he’d need to leave tomorrow for another trip.

“How much of a threat is it posing?” he asked. Maybe he could put it off a little…

“The threat level on this one is higher than the last,” Natasha responded. “It’s one of our newer prototypes. With your help we’ve been able to work out a few of the kinks. This also makes it more dangerous, and it went out of line much closer to the facility.”

So much for that.

“Can you pick me up tomorrow morning? Like the first time?” he asked.

“Done. We’ll see you tomorrow morning, Rogers.” Natasha hung up the phone after that without much more to say.

* * *

 

He’d been on the plane the next morning as promised. Bucky had been predictably vexed about the sudden business trip, but Steve had been able to assuage him by promising he’d be home the next day, just like the last time. With that promise in mind, he was determined to make sure that he dispatched of the android properly. If he could be careful, he might even be able to beg off the dinner with Natasha and get himself back on a plane that evening. It had been hard to see the wariness in Bucky’s eyes as he’d kissed him goodbye that morning without details to give him about the conference. He’d shrugged it off as having come up suddenly, something they were only just going to be able to give him details about when he was on his way.

The plane ride had gone much quicker this time, knowing what to expect. He was, however, surprised when there was no briefing from Natasha as he approached the island. Even more surprising was the fact that he wasn’t dropped off in some clearing out on the island like the last time. As they approached, he looked out the window to see that they were taking him to the same runway he’d taken off from the last time they’d brought him to the island.

Natasha met Steve as he disembarked from the plane, already changed into his new suit. It felt strange and new, but with Natasha’s assertions that this android would be harder to face, he’d chosen to side with the newer tech. Natasha eyed it appreciatively before she closed the distance between them.

“Nice new suit,” she offered, smirking.

“Figured I could use the new tech for the new android,” he offered with a shrug, feeling decidedly out of his element with Natasha. “I thought this needed to be taken care of quickly?”

“It does,” Natasha responded. “But my employer wanted to brief you personally this time. He has some… concerns about the android you’re going to be bringing in for him. If you’ll follow me?” She beckoned for him to follow her as she headed back inside. Natasha led him along the corridors to a business room. She let him through the door, gesturing for him to sit.

“He’ll be with you momentarily. Please, make yourself comfortable.” She left shortly after giving him those instructions.

Steve settled himself in a chair facing the doorway of the conference room. He was both wary and intrigued by the notion of meeting his mysterious employer. Still not entirely certain that he trusted the man apparently pulling the strings on this project, there were a few ways that this could go.

Steve was startled out of his thoughts when there was a crash _through_ the wall directly behind him. He whirled only in time to be caught by the force of something knocking him flat onto his back on the table. It knocked the wind out of him, and Steve found himself gasping and sputtering as he tried to regain his breath.

He wasn’t given long before the shape came crashing into him again, knocking him off the table and into the wall on the side of the conference room. Steve groaned, sliding against the wall as he tried to regain his breath and banish the spots from his vision.

The android standing before him looked astonishingly like him. It was different enough that Steve knew it wasn’t a direct copy, but it was clear where the inspiration for it had come from. It stood well over six feet tall, the hair on its head thick and blonde. With a thick, muscled torso and upper body that slimmed down as you reach its legs, it looked almost top heavy but definitely powerful. The sneer it leveled in Steve’s direction was such a decidedly human feature that Steve couldn’t help but wonder if the android in front of him was even an android.

They’d worked out so many of the kinks of the one he’d fought it was terrifying.

Steve attempted to use the wall to stand, but the android didn’t seem keen on giving him much time to muster up the energy. It launched forward at him again, catching him around the throat with a hand as it bashed him into the wall once more. Steve struggled against it, attempting to kick or punch, anything that might bring them apart.

Natasha hadn’t been lying about this one being more dangerous. It was _stronger_ , keeping him pinned like he was a child. Try as Steve might to get himself free, the android seemed more than capable of dealing with him, slamming him up against the wall another time to knock the wind out of him again.

Steve had been fairly certain he was going to die when the android changed its tactic suddenly, slamming him into the conference table in the center of the room. As he writhed in pain, trying to recover before the next attack, he swore he saw someone enter the room. Steve tried to get a closer look. When he turned to face the shape, however, the android struck him in the head. The world went black as he collapsed against the table.


	8. You Sly Dog! You Caught Me Monologuing!

When Steve came to he was restrained by a series of metal clamps. The heavy cuffs encircled each hand and foot, leaving him dangling and slightly stretched out into an ‘x’, his arms and legs forced to stretch out from his body. He squirmed, attempting to bring his arms in closer only for the force to increase, the bonds snapping him back into his original position. 

“Impressive, aren’t they?” an oddly familiar voice echoed from across the room as a door slid open, a single pathway illuminating from it to where Steve was held. Steve winced, eyes taking a few moments to adjust to the sudden burst of light. Unable to see the figure yet, he noted that the room was large, sprawling, and seemed only to contain a single walkway from the door to him. He was suspended over some chasm, deep and gaping. The platform he was on contained a control panel for whatever contraption they had him strung up in. The sound of footsteps across the walkway brought his attention back to the voice that had called out to him. When he finally saw who it was, he paled. 

“Pierce.” Shock mingled with confusion at the revelation. Standing before him in a pressed suit, hands tucked neatly into his pockets, was none other than the Secretary of State. Why Pierce was here, was taking part in whatever this was, he didn’t understand. Steve hadn’t known the man well, but his work with the Enhanced Relocation Act had been applauded. He’d been one of the few who tried to make it _fair_. The smug look on his face made him appear far more sinister in the present.

“I’ll admit I wasn’t sure they would hold you. Someone under influence? Then they're little more than formality. You, however? I thought you’d have more fight, Rogers.” Pierce’s eyes danced with the eager arrogance of someone waiting to be proved right. He was eager for Steve to fall for the bait, to watch the attempted display. “But then Burnside took care of you even faster than I could ever have imagined after the way you destroyed the first android we sent you against.” 

“What does the sitting Secretary of State want with all of this?” Steve shot back. The implications in what Pierce said bordered on the sickening. All the uneasy feelings of the work he had been doing came to a head now. Steve didn’t know enough yet to feel over his head, but something digging deep in his gut told him that this was much worse than it appeared. 

“Enhanced individuals have been fighting each other for as long as they have existed,” Pierce responded. “It’s incredibly naïve to think that something as simple as a government order will keep them in check for anything longer than a few years _at most_. The tipping point is coming, Rogers. It was coming even before the act was signed into reality.”

“Then why back a project you knew would fail? Why haven’t people been doing more to prepare for that?” The Enhanced Registration Act had ruled their lives from the moment it had gone into effect. It had pushed him into jobs he hated, forced Bucky into stay-at-home parenthood, only for the man who had pushed it through to tell him he’d known it would fail? Anger mingled with the despair that came with knowing something had all been for _naught_.

“I’d ask what you think all this is, if not doing more to prepare for the day the Act fails?” Pierce asked him in response, gesturing out vaguely at the facility that stood around them.

“I wanted to believe it was for something useful, but then you went and captured me,” Steve responded, just a small bit of acid in his voice.

“Oh, Rogers, you were always just a means to an end,” Pierce chuckled, shaking his head. He managed to sound both amused and disgusted in the same moment. A sudden flaring hatred grew where Pierce had once held some sort of respect in Steve’s mind. “With your desire to do good and an unwillingness to keep your head down, it was only a matter of time before we were able to lure you in with something so simple. You did most of the work there for us, getting fired from Hammer Industries.”

“So the Act was all just a front put in place while you found a way to exercise more control?” Steve didn’t want to acknowledge that he’d played right into Pierce’s hands. He’d been so certain he could figure all of this out.

“Yes and no,” Pierce responded. “The Act was useful for a time. It put a temporary end to the uncontrolled bursts of chaos and destruction that came with enhanced taking it upon themselves to decide how to handle problems without any oversight.” He sighed as if the idea still annoyed him. “So we put a temporary stop to any activity. It also allowed us to know where to find you the moment some of you became useful again. If we knew where you were, we could tap you into service if an issue came up before we were prepared to handle it. But we weren’t so naïve as to think that registering enhanced would make all of them come forward. We also didn’t think the more aggressive enhanced would go quietly. Did you seriously think they would all fold up shop just because we told them to?”

That was something they’d wondered about in the years after the ERA went into effect. There had been no reports in the news, however, and no sudden phone calls from Fury or anyone else stating their need for heroes to take care of some problem. Bucky had surmised that maybe enhanced villains had been paid off to settle, or something of the sort. Bucky had also voiced that there might still be some around, but that they were being dealt with quietly by some other enhanced they didn’t know about. Steve didn’t get long to ponder it before Pierce launched into another monologue.

“Fortunately, with the development of the androids here, we don’t need enhanced heroes like you anymore,” Pierce responded. “With models like Burnside, we can neutralize even the greatest enhanced threats that come our way. We have, after all, tested it on the best.”

There was something in Pierce’s tone that made Steve wonder who else it had been tested on before him and what became of them. Some part of him didn’t want to know. The other part roiled in anger at what he imagined happened, only continued to bolster his newfound hatred for the man before him.

“The androids are much easier to control than our previous attempts. An android like Burnside looks passably human, but at the end of the day the programming is all that it has. There aren’t any pesky memories or other fluff to get in the way of what we tell it to do. It took us a number of failures early on, but we’ve found what we need.” Pierce’s tone was callous, but as he spoke Steve reached a sinking realization. Previous attempts? Programming? Memories? The words added up to a conversation they’d had years ago, a conversation in a room full of people.

Realization dawned that the man in front of him had been involved in kidnapping Bucky. It only took a moment longer for Steve to come to the understanding that that meant he’d also been involved in the car crash that killed Bucky’s entire family. Pierce, long before the Enhanced Registration Act and long before the call for it had even rung out, had been working towards some sinister means of controlling them. Pierce had attempted to mold him into a villain, someone who _took on_ others like him-

The fury burned white hot in Steve’s veins, coursing through him with such potency that he almost believed he could snap the very bonds that held him. He wanted to. He wanted nothing more than to launch himself at Pierce and make him pay for what he’d done.

“He was a child!” he barked. They were the only words he could think of, accompanied with the photograph of a younger Bucky on a screen.

“And he could have been an excellent tool in helping us shift the tides of how the world viewed enhanced,” Pierce responded, seemingly unaffected by Steve’s rage. “Unfortunately, he slipped out of his programming and ended up in the hands of Fury and his group of do-gooders. All the years of wasted resources--“

“You took away his life to make him a tool,” Steve snarled.

“And you turned him into a glorified house pet, a babysitter,” Pierce responded. “At least with us he was working towards the future.”

The words stung more than Steve had expected them to. He knew Bucky was unhappy with the life he was leading now no matter how much he loved their children. Steve had never intended that life for him either. Somewhere in the flurry of his own jobs and drama, he’d lost sight of how much Bucky had sacrificed for the sake of making things work.

“Better to have a future with people who care about him than a future under your thumb,” Steve responded, voice tight. “He wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for you.”

“He wouldn’t be in this situation if you hadn’t meddled,” Pierce responded. “I will admit your heroism was something I underestimated. Agreeing to house him after he was captured, the poor tragically lost child that he was. It really was something. But it was something that messed with my plans and it’s taken me years to get them back on track.”

“Your plans to destroy the ERP?”

Pierce laughed at this, shaking his head like he was listening to the foolish thoughts of a child. “What makes you think I want to destroy it? I want people to remember why we have it. Enhanced are dangerous, after all. And once they remember? We’ll be able to roll our androids out and keep enhanced in check. They’ll be stronger, faster, and better able to combat any errant enhanced we may have. I think it will keep everything in balance much more nicely.”

While the plan sounded like it might be a success on the surface, Steve found it wasn’t hard to poke cracks in Pierce’s thoughts. Even if the androids were the best option for protecting the people, putting them in the control of one person or even a small group spelled trouble. The safety of people would be purely in their hands, and there was always the possibility that they could choose not to act. Even more so, they had the power to turn the androids on even those enhanced who meant well. It was giving a small group of people a very large amount of power. This small group of power had also already proven that they were willing to resort to kidnapping and brainwashing to reach their goals, a fact that only affirmed for Steve that they needed to be stopped. After what Pierce had done to Bucky (and who knew who else) he clearly couldn’t be trusted.

“I apologize, but we’re going to have to keep you contained for just a little while longer,” Pierce offered when the pause had gone on longer than he liked. “I’d love to chat longer, but I have other business to attend to. I’m sure you can understand?”

Steve let Pierce go despite the myriad of things running through his head. The stinging retorts and frustration he wanted to fling his way warred with being stuck. He needed to find a way to free himself. Once he got out of here, he’d be much more able to stop this plan of Pierce’s and hopefully right things elsewhere, too. 


	9. I'm Far Too Busy So Ask Me Now

While Steve was terrible at lying to Bucky’s face, he seemed to have done a good job of covering his tracks in all of the other facets where his life might have provided some clues. The briefcase he took with him everyday to the office contained papers about a number of different company policies, the reservations to these conferences they kept sending him to, and the evidence that Steve’s promotion really had gone through. Phone calls to hotels and conference hotlines all seemed to check out- nice young women or courteous gentleman were always more than willing to answer the questions he had. Steve always called when he promised to, even if his stories about the conferences seemed shakier than the information he was given by other parties.

It was this dischord that allowed the nagging feeling in Bucky’s gut to continue to throb even as the weeks went on. He hadn’t forgotten his conversation with Sam, but it seemed like every avenue he had for finding information led to something frustratingly concrete. Sam had already made it clear that he wouldn’t discuss Steve’s new job in any more capacity than it impacted Bucky’s own life, and Steve clearly wasn’t going to come clean.

The only thing he could do was wait, bide his time until his patience paid off and some chink in the armor was revealed. It was all easier said than done when Bucky didn’t feel much like being patient.

For all that Steve had been promoted, it seemed he was home and present more than he had been since the job at Hammer Industries started. Bucky found himself with more downtime as Steve took shifts driving the kids to school, cooking meals, and tidying around the house. Arguments between Bucky and Pietro were thwarted by Steve’s steady, mediating presence. Perhaps most importantly was the fact that Steve seemed _happier_. The weight of misery that had been his job was lifted, replaced with the bright man he had been when Steve and Bucky had first started living together. It was this Steve that Bucky had fallen for, replacing the falseness of their relationship with something more genuine on Bucky’s side.

Which was what killed him about the weeks following his conversation with Sam after Steve had come home from that first conference. For all that Steve was happy, Bucky couldn’t shake the feeling that Steve was lying to him. Something about the entire experience seemed off in a way that Bucky couldn’t reconcile, and it had all begun with the surprise promotion from Hammer Tech. The lies hurt, but Bucky wasn’t sure whether it was the dishonesty or the idea that Steve was happier in some life he wasn’t sharing with their family that hurt more.

It pulled up old insecurities and blossomed them into new ones as Bucky attempted to continue with his own day-to-day operations. Steve had chosen to take him in, but it had come with unforeseen consequences and further complications for him, especially after the ERA had gone into effect. It was entirely possible that Steve had grown tired of being weighed down by the family that had been tacked on in the wake of heroes going into hiding. He hadn’t been allowed to look for his own new secret life, but had instead been forced into one with Bucky.

“He’s happy with you, Barnes,” Sam insisted at their appointment. “And I’ve known him for a long time. Seen him in relationships before, too.”

“You know as well as I do that this isn’t real. It wasn’t even his choice,” Bucky responded, looking down at his lap, picking at a piece of fluff on his pants.

“And I’ve seen marriages that don’t even last as long as you two have been together,” Sam countered. “Steve was given the options. He knew what he was doing when he agreed to all of this, and if I had to make a guess I’d say he doesn’t regret the choices he made. If you’re really that worried, talk to him. Express your concerns. Steve might not want to answer, but if you push him hard enough, he won’t have much choice.”

“Or you’re wrong and it forces his hand early,” Bucky responded, feeling the bite of cynicism in his own voice. He knew logically that Sam was right; he should talk to Steve. The thought earned such a vehement emotional reaction, however, that the idea of trying to approach Steve just to have him dance around the issue wasn’t something he was ready for.

“You may not be ready for that yet,” Sam responded. “But when you are, I suggest you sit down with him and walk him through all of this. The only way you can put these fears to rest is to confront them head-on through a conversation. You’ve been through a lot worse, I have faith you’ll both survive this.”

Sam had helped him to feel minimally better, but before he had a chance to discuss these concerns with Steve, he’d been off on another business trip for Hammer Tech. Bucky resolved that he was going to sit Steve down as soon as he got home.

But then he didn’t call. Bucky carried his cell phone around in his pocket all evening, ringer turned up to max volume and the vibrate setting on only to fall asleep on the couch with not even a text. When he woke up the next morning, the nerves he had vowed to pay no came back full force.

“We can call Sam for a ride to school,” Wanda offered when she came out to find him still in the previous day’s clothing.

“No, no it’s fine,” he responded with a yawn, stretching on the couch. “Not the first time I’ve fallen asleep on the couch.” Bucky flashed her a smile, but the concerned expression on her face told Bucky he wasn’t hiding his frustration and worry well enough.

“He didn’t call?”

“No,” Bucky responded, directing a glare of frustration to his phone. “I’m sure he just got busy schmoozing or whatever it is he’s supposed to be doing at these conferences.” He tried desperately to shove down the flurry of concerned, anxious feelings. Even when he’d gone dark for hours on the first conference, it hadn’t been for this long and he’d at least texted.

“I’ll make sure Peter and Pietro are up,” Wanda offered. “So you can get ready.” There was a pointed look and a firmness in her words that Bucky knew she had picked up from Steve. It was such a far cry from the petrified eight year old who’d hidden behind her brother that it struck him for a moment. The moment must have lingered just a second too long— Wanda’s gaze turned quizzical. He shook his head, dispelling the awkwardness as he righted himself on the couch.

“I’ll be ready,” he responded with a groan. “Thanks, Wanda.” She gave him a small smile, coupled with another look of concern before she disappeared to go deal with her brothers. If she’d noted his nerves, she hadn’t said anything about it.

Life had to go on whether Steve checked in with them or not. He thanked his lucky stars that Wanda seemed prepared to help pick up the slack.

Later that morning, Bucky found himself back into the swing of a normal schedule. With the kids dropped off at school and Peter napping, he’d finally made his way through the pile up of laundry in their bathroom, spurred by the diminishing collection of work shirts on Steve’s side of the closet. It made him feel better to know he wouldn’t have to pull himself away the moment Steve got home to make sure he had clean work shirts for the next day. Steve still hadn’t informed him of when he was supposed to be coming home, a fact that had left Bucky irritated. With the missed phone call the night before and the radio silence? The irritation had turned into a worry that gnawed uncomfortably at his gut. The unread text messages only added to it.

Steve had to be busy at the conference— it was an easy enough explanation. They’d been running him ragged with all of this travel. He’d probably gone back to his room the night before and fallen straight asleep. If he’d also spent in, it might explain why Bucky hadn’t heard from him. It was a perfectly logical explanation, but even so Bucky couldn’t get it to right with a nagging sense that there was something more to it.

When the stack of hangers on the bed dwindled, Bucky huffed a sigh. He stretched his back and plodded back over to the closet to search for more. Steve’s side was almost bare, only punctuating his absence more clearly. As Bucky moved to snag a few strag hangers, a swath of blue fabric caught his eye. Steve’s suit, which had hung unused in the back of ever closet in every house they’d lived in, was peeking out from its place just behind the winter coat he barely used. Bucky frowned, foregoing the hangers to tuck the errant sleeve back in.

Until he noted the sleeve itself. While Steve had taken care of the suit, it had still shown the weight of the years heroing. Where the fabric had once showed patches of discoloration and wear, it now hung almost pristine. New. Bucky tugged it out further, aiming to inspect the whole suit for other signs of the same new shine, trying to stay off the sinking feeling that came from the inspection.

“What have you been up to..,” he murmured as he tugged the suit out. He knew Steve had been proud of his suit, but with how long it had sat untouched in the closet the sudden cleanliness was surprising. Why would Steve take the suit to-

Bucky’s train of thought halted when the suit came free, knocking a slip of paper free as well. He stooped to pick it up, turning it over to inspect it.

_Patched it up like you asked. Also included a spare, just in case! - TS_

Bucky clenched his fist, the card of paper crumpling helplessly as irritation burned quickly through to rage. _Tony._ Whatever Steve had been doing, Tony Stark had been helping with it. Where Tony Stark got involved, there was sure to be some kind of trouble, especially if suit repair was part of the equation.

Wrenching back the hanger with the old suit on it, Bucky was greeted with the second suit mentioned. It was hung up pristinely just behind it, clearly never worn. This one obviously hailed its design inspiration from the older costume it was paired with. The main body of the suit was the same deep blue, brighter with its fresher make. The midsection still carried the red and white stripes that made it patriotic, a white star emblazoned across the chest. All of the fabric seemed updated, more modern, and ready to be _used._

Bucky’s heart sank at the thought, facilitating one brief reeling, moment of despair at the notion of Steve going back out there more seriously without even telling him. This grief lasted only a few moments before the anger was bubbling back up. Stee had taken it upon himself to let Tony build him a new suit, to risk _everything_ because he couldn’t acknowledge his heroing days were over. Bucky had tried to be understanding of Steve’s need to do good and right wrongs, but this was crossing lines.

He needed answers.

* * *

 

The phone rang a few times as Bucky waited, sending a silent prayer that Peter would stay down for his nap. The business card sat on Bucky’s bedside table, edges slightly tattered from the times he’d been forced to use it before. Tony had offered him one in some shiny, indestructible metal once, but in his determination not to need the other’s help, he’d refused it and settled for the one he had now. He’d ended up pulling it out more than he’d cared to admit, but this time he _needed_ Tony to pick up the damn phone.

“Mr. Stark’s office. He’s currently—”

“Pepper, I need to talk to Stark. _Now_. So please don’t feed me the bullshit his gives other people.” Bucky’s frustration was already ramped up, anger mingling potently with worry. If Steve was out doing hero work, that meant—

“Well, if it isn’t Barnes?” Tony’s voice interrupted, picking up the line before Pepper could even offer a response. “What do you need this time? I’ve got prototypes for that fully automated kitchen, you know. Should be ready to install in—”

“I’m not interested in gadgets.”

“Oh, _oh_ ,” Stark offered knowingly, a tone that unnerved Bucky far more about the situation. “Did the Patriot take my advice and come clean about the whole thing?”

“Come clean?” Bucky asked, voice wavering on mocking. “No I’m calling because Steve’s got signs of repair on his suit and a _new one_ in his closet. Along with a lovely little note from you, which has me thinking you know something I don’t. I want answers.” It was a demand, voice sinking dark and low with impending threat.

“Sheesh I can _hear_ your serial killer glower, Barnes,” Tony responded, only a small note of discomfort betraying that Bucky was getting to him. “You have heard the phrase ‘Don’t shoot the messenger’ before, right?”

“Yeah, well you’re a little bit more than the messenger here,” Bucky shot back, frustration still apparent in his voice.

“Well, yes, fair,” Tony conceded, before huffing a sigh. “Why don’t you come down to the Tower, okay? We’ll smooth things over and I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Tony, I—”

“You know what? My afternoon’s free. You could come around one? Great. I’ll see you then, Buck Rogers.”

Before Bucky could protest, Tony had hung up the phone. Aghast, but with no other choice, he dialed Sam’s number in with the hope he wouldn’t mind babysitting.


	10. Pull Yourself Together!

Bucky stared up at the tower for another brief moment, exhaling to mentally prepare himself before he eyed the entry panel once again. He was _probably_ going to regret this. He already regretted it. Someone knew what Steve was up to, and that someone was responsible for the brand new suit that Steve had not-so-successfully hidden in the back section of his closet (like Bucky wouldn’t notice the shifting of the garments there when putting laundry away). The list of people that might be was unsurprisingly limited.

Steeling himself past his reluctance, Bucky reached out to touch the entry panel.

 _Welcome guest_ , a disembodied male voice offered instead of the chimes Bucky had expected. _Please prepare yourself for retinal scanning and identification._

“What the…” Bucky’s protests were cut off by the panel that opened in the wall, blue light washing in a line over his face before honing in on his eye to scan it briefly.

 _Welcome, James Buchanan Barnes, alias Winter Soldier,_ the voice continued. _Please state the nature of your business._

“I’m here to see Stark,” he responded. “He’s expecting me, if that’s what you’re going to ask next, JARVIS.” In another life, he might have crossed his arms over his chest. He settled instead for glaring in the direction of the AI’s panel on the wall. “And it’s Rogers-Barnes, or didn’t Tony update you in the last seven years?”

_I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers-Barnes. Mr. Stark had informed me of the largely performative nature of your union. I didn’t intend to cause you any distress or irritation._

“Yeah, yeah. Now you gonna let me in, or am I gonna be left standing out here all day?”

_Mr. Stark has been informed of your arrival. He asks that you wait in the front sitting room and he will be with you shortly._

The AI’s panel went abruptly dark, leaving Bucky in awkward silence for a few moments before the previously locked door slid open, granting him entrance. As he stepped into the tower, the doors slid shut behind him almost immediately.

The sitting room was a mix of the familiar and something entirely new. Bucky wasn’t surprised it had changed- it had been years since he’d visited Stark’s massive tower. The chairs hadn’t changed much, set up in roughly the same configuration but with fabric that appeared new, more neutral. The clearest change, however, came in the artwork presented. Walls that had once contained the concept art for a number of different heroes’ suits now contained oddly uniform, surprisingly boring canvases of modern art. Stark’s building might not have changed much in configuration from its days working with superheroes, but its style pointed towards entirely different clientele.

“And what do I owe this most unusual pleasure?” the voice startled him out of his surveying the room. “I thought they were keeping you on a tighter leash now, Mr. Freeze. How many times have you moved?”

“Does Pepper know you’re still working on hero suits?” Bucky shot back in response as he turned to face the now-present Tony. “I thought you were retired.”

“Touche,” Tony offered in response. “Now, I imagine you’re not here to see this pretty face, so what is it?” Tony hardly missed a beat before moving right into the more pressing matter- why Bucky had called and demanded to meet with him.

“I want to know what the hell you made for my husband.” With pleasantries behind them, irritation prickled in Bucky’s voice, threatening to rise further. He was very much not in the mood to deal with Tony’s feigned ignorance and nonchalant attitude. All the same, he needed answers. If Steve was on the verge of doing or had already done something incredibly stupid, Tony had been one of the last people he’d turned to before heading that way. Bucky wast starting to believe more in the latter.

“I’d think it would take more than a patch job to ruffle your feathers, Barnes,” Tony responded, arching a brow. “What’s gotten under your skin?”

“Under _my_ skin? How about the fact that the suit shouldn’t have needed patching in the first place,” Bucky bristled. “Or that this wasn’t _just_ a patch job? Don’t think I didn’t see the other suit, Stark.”

“So he wanted a new costume,” Tony offered, shrugging. “For all I know he wanted it for a costume party or one of those trophy cases people like putting up in their houses. It wasn’t like I didn’t have a few of the old prototypes lying around from before things went belly up. So I gave the guy one of his old suits, that doesn’t mean I gave Old Glory my blessing on hero work or anything like that.”

“So he _is_ resuming hero work,” Bucky murmured under his breath before his eyes flicked back to Tony. Any vestiges of warmth had warped into cold fury. “I know you think you’re above the law, Stark, but him? What do you think they’re gonna do to him when he gets caught? Huh? Because they sure as hell aren’t gonna give him a nice slap on the wrist and send him home.”

Bucky closed the gap between them, fist clenching as he tried to quell the mix of fury and fear that threatened to course through him once again. He tried not to think about how nice it would be to fist Tony’s shirtfront in his grasp, and how useless it would be because with his one hand occupied there weren’t as many favorable options for a looming threat against the millionaire. Tony, to his credit, took a step back, putting his hands up between them momentarily until he realized Bucky wasn’t actually going to make moves to hit him.

“Look, you know as well as I do that our good friend and your ‘main squeeze’- is that what you call them these days?- was going to do it whether I helped him or not. At least this way he’s going in outfitted in the finest gear out there instead of running around in plain clothes while he does something, as you so eloquently put it, incredibly stupid and no doubt _impulsive_ ,” Tony offered after a moment, slowly seeming to ease himself as Bucky made no moves to harm him.

“Now, do you want to see the toys I’ve prepared for you, or are you going to continue the Bad Cop shtick you’ve got going?” Tony’s brow arched once more, and Bucky had to severely resist the temptation to throw his clenched fist into Tony’s face. It probably wasn’t the most conducive way to help or get answers.

“I didn’t come here for new toys, I came here for _answers_ ,” Bucky responded pointedly, his growing impatience lending to the gruffness of his voice.

“Oh come on, Barnes,” Tony protested, his voice taking on a tone of entreaty. “You didn’t think I’d just outfit Old Stars and Stripes without making something equally breathtaking for each of his heroic little compatriots, did you?”

“It’s bad enough you’ve made Steve a _new_ suit. Now you’re telling me you didn’t stop there?” Bucky growled, another step forward causing Tony to take one immediately back in counterpoint, hands toying with the idea of raising in surrender.

“I figured if he was getting in on the kicking ass again that you couldn’t be that far behind, and with the family-”

“We don’t do that anymore,” Bucky cut him off with a short, firm statement.

“Well, you’re not wrong. That would imply that you _started_ , which would be a tad difficult for a few of you seeing as they’re still in diapers. It would also require a rather colossal spin on certain things there, wouldn’t it?” Tony offered with a pointed look Bucky’s direction.

Bucky gave him another dark look in response, a number of imagined scenarios flashing through his head. While it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as letting loose physically, it at least allowed him the image of knocking Tony’s block off.

“Come on, Barnes, at least come see them before you write them off,” Tony offered, the pleading note in his voice almost entirely for show. “You might hurt their feelings.”

“They’re _suits_ , Stark,” he replied flatly.

“I’m going to pretend I’m not insulted by that,” Tony responded, heaving a sigh before he tapped a code into a panel on the wall, an entrance sliding open from the seemingly solid wall he’d been standing by. He inclined his head in invitation and Bucky rolled his eyes before following Tony into the secret passage.

* * *

 

“Now sit here and let the show begin.” Tony gestured to a plush seat once they’d entered his “showroom”. For being a room that they’d entered through a secret sliding panel, the architecture was almost synonymous with the rest of the building. Bucky mused for just a brief moment on the idea that the entrance had been added after the building had been finished, a product of the Enhanced Relocation Act and the sudden “drop” in hero activity. He wondered how many heroes had come to Stark Industries in the seven years since looking to resume their work in secret, making the continued maintenance of the space a necessity. It certainly didn’t seem to want for attention even though years had passed.

“The show? I’m here about _Steve_ ,” Bucky responded, trying not to roll his eyes as he settled himself into the chair, aware of the blank space before him as Tony stood by yet another one of his precious monitors.

“There’s plenty of time to talk about him,” Tony responded, waving him off. “But first, let me show you the kids.” He tapped a few keys on the illuminated panel, and a panel opened in the floor, a mannequin clad in what appeared to be a red trenchcoat, the clothing underneath it seeming almost normal and interchangeable. A pair of fingerless gloves peeked out from the ends of the sleeves, and a pair of boots that looked about knee high completed the look.

“This one was probably the trickiest, but it follows all the basic bells and whistles- trenchcoat, gloves, and boots are all fireproof, bulletproof, and capable of withstanding most of what’d be thrown at ‘em,” Tony offered with a smug, satisfied smile Bucky’s way. “The gloves might need some tweaking. I’ve never actually gotten to run your kids through any tests so I did the best with what I had to work with based on shenanigans at birthday parties and the like-”

Bucky offered a glare in response, affirming the vow that Tony would get nowhere near his children with these ‘tests’ he wanted to run. It was effective enough in cutting off whatever tangent about the unfairness of not being able to treat the children like lab rats, as Tony recentered himself and switched gears before speaking again.

“They’ll help her control, but not dampen, her telekinetic powers. If all works well they’ll enhance them in ways that’ll make using them easier. That okay with you, Barnes?” Tony quirked a brow this way, begging him to argue with his presented genius.

“You’re designing-”

“You haven’t even seen Pietro’s yet,” Tony offered, effectively cutting him off again. He pushed another button on a control panel and Wanda’s outfit disappeared through the panel it had come out of, quickly replaced by a suit designed in cool, light blues and silvery fabric. Years of folding laundry told Bucky grudgingly that Tony had managed to get his older son’s measurements startlingly correct.

“Now, this took some engineering because I wasn’t actually sure how fast the little speedster can run,” Tony launched into his explanation, gesturing at the suit as it rotated behind the plate glass, a furious wind meant to simulate running kicking up within the design tank. “Designing a fabric that was light, flexible, and able to withstand extreme levels of friction? Harder than you think. But it breathes like Egyptian cotton and the colors should compliment that bleach thing he’s got going on with his hair.”

“It doesn’t need to go with his hair, Tony, because he’s not going to be using it,” Bucky responded, forcing his voice even despite the increasing urgency with which he wanted to pummel the other.

“And of course, for the littlest tike.” Tony continued on with feigned obliviousness. He pushed another button and the suit appeared on a pedestal. The suit was small, obviously meant for a young child, and looked like any number of the outfits Bucky dressed Peter in in the mornings. It was colored in swatches of blue and red accented with panels of black, something that seemed to be attempting to call back to the color schemes of both Steve and his outfits.

“Since we don’t know what powers young Peter will have-”

“He doesn’t _have_ powers,” Bucky protested, eyes flashing.

“We covered the bases,” Tony cuts back in, looking almost annoyed with the interruption. “The suit is bulletproof, fireproof, flexible, durable, and machine washable. I’d even say it will look dashing next to either you or Cap.” Tony’s voice beamed with pride. “Oh, and it comes with a mask just on the off chance you’re worried about the whole identity thing.”

“Peter is _a year old_ ,” Bucky responded, voice nearly a growl. “What makes you think we’ll be taking him on missions even in the unlikely occurrence we go on them?!”

“Best to get him into the practice early,” Tony offered. “And I’ll be glad to make any and all modifications as my godson grows.”

“I don’t want them,” Bucky responded. “It’s asking them to take part in something illegal, to get messed up in something that would ruin their lives. I can’t believe you even _made_ them.” There was so much more he wanted to say about them, so much frustration about the idea that someone wanted to craft his children into heroes. Steve may have decided to do whatever he was, but that didn’t mean that the children needed to get drawn in like some kind of pawn.

“C’mon now, Barnes. It doesn’t hurt to have them lying around,” Tony shot back in response, nonchalant despite the mounting frustration from the other side. “They can use them as Halloween costumes or something.”

“Yeah, dress them up as superheroes and hope that people don’t _see_ them that way.” The notion made Bucky more uncomfortable than it probably should have, but the idea of the suits alone invited a scrutiny and potential of exposure that filled him with dread. They knew the drill if he or Steve stepped out of line, but if one of the kids was outed? There was no telling what the Council would decide to do with them.

He knew he’d fight them if they tried to take any of them away. He’d take the Council on alone, force them to lock him away before they sent Wanda, Pietro, or Peter off to new families.

“Okay, okay, so let’s move away from the outfits for the sprouts,” Tony offered, finally seeming to catch on finally to Bucky’s frustration. “I have something else you’ll want to see.”

Before Bucky could get a word of protest out, Tony was holding up a hand to hush him as he pushed a series of buttons. Peter’s suit disappeared once again, leaving the room blank once more.

“I’m thinking you’re going to like this one…” Tony continued, almost a mutter to himself as he pushed a few more buttons on the screen. The lighting in the room changed, shifting a shade darker as a few panels opened to reveal Tony’s next invention.

The suit that came out was startlingly familiar. The mannequin was clad from head to toe in black. The combat pants were loose, several deep pockets sewn into them to give plenty of storage. They were held up by a thick belt, a number of sheaths and harnesses attached in various locations, empty at the moment but clearly designed to hold a number of weapons. They didn’t seem entirely different from the pants designed for soldiers in combat, though Bucky imagined they were made from some kind of material that mirrored the capabilities of the other suits he’d seen. The jacket’s design was even more familiar, black and leather-like in appearance, it strapped on in a way that nestled close to the skin but offered a sense of maneuverability. It was capped off by a harness, meant to keep a gun holstered close to his back. A pair of combat boots had risen up from the floor to settle next to the outfit- a stunning recreation of the one he’d been wearing when he’d been captured.

“You might recognize this,” Tony offered, glancing Bucky’s way with a smug smile. “It’s been redesigned from the ground up, obviously. The fabric’s all bulletproof and fireproof, just like the kids’. In addition, it’s resistant to extreme cold, so it shouldn’t crack or fall apart when you do your whole Frosty the Snowman thing. Any crazy little scenario you can imagine, you’ll be able to do.”

“Well that’s great and all,” Bucky responded. “But in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly in any position to do hero work anymore.” There was a touch of bitterness in his tone, a frustration that didn’t quite come from the same place as that over the suits for his children.

“Like I said earlier, that would imply tha-” Tony cut off the statement abruptly when Bucky’s glare turned venomous. He threw his hands up in surrender for a moment, before glancing meaningfully over at him. “So I know you’re hung up on the whole arm situation-”

“Oh? You mean the fact that I only have one arm? I didn’t notice.” Sarcasm laced Bucky’s voice, mingling with the anger there. Even with the souped up suit that Tony had, outfit with weapons and his own powers, Bucky would be severely impaired with the use of only one arm. While he’d learned to accommodate for the missing appendage in his everyday life, he didn’t feel confident with operating in areas where flexibility was key and mistakes could result in the fatalities of many. Out on a mission, Tony wasn’t there to whip up some gadget to help if an unexpected difficulty came up.

“As I was saying,” Tony started up again, a mild sort of irritation at being interrupted leaking through in his voice. This was why they weren’t allowed to occupy the same space without refereeing often. “I have a solution for that as well. Barnes, meet the most stunning addition to your new uniform.”

Tony pushed another button with a flourish and a panel opened up in the back wall. The platform that slid out held one thing- a glimmering metal arm. Bucky blinked, trying not to gawk at Tony’s latest surprise. The arm seemed a distinct replica of the one that had been blown off seven years ago down to the red star gleaming on the shoulder. He exhaled a breath, finding that words failed him.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Tony asked, pride humming in his voice. “It may look like the outdated piece of junk they’d grafted onto you before, but I assure you that this baby’s got all the latest technology. You’ll have an exaggerated range of motion, full sensory input, and the metal makes it more durable than the fleshy one you’ve got on the other side.”

“Tony, it’s _metal_ ,” Bucky commented, the words coming out a touch more dazed than he would have liked. He was still trying to process the idea of having his arm back. To be able to cradle Peter more firmly, without fear of him slipping through as he got older and more eager to explore…

“Yeah, I noticed that. Kind of hard to offer you anything else,” Tony responded. “But if you’re worried about how all the nosey little PTA moms and elderly neighbors will feel? Stark Industries has a breathtaking array of prosthetic limbs ready to hit the market, so they won’t be able to question it for long.”

“Oh yeah? And how am I supposed to explain why I’m walking around with the latest Stark Industries technology when my husband works for the competition?” Bucky snapped back, though some of the bite had left his voice. For as many issues as the arm presented, he couldn’t help but be drawn to it. He’d be free of his reliance on Tony’s gadgets and finding alternative means of doing things. He might even be able to go back to work. “Not to mention how the ERA Office would react to this. They haven’t given their permission.”

“I’m of the mind it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission,” Tony offered dismissively, waving off the protest. “And it’ll make it a hell of a lot easier to drag that husband of yours back when you inevitably go after him.”

“I don’t even know where he _is_.” It was the whole reason he’d come to Tony in the first place. He’d seen the patch job on his old suit and known that it could only be Tony’s handiwork. That, layered with his other suspicions, had made coming here seem like the best option for finding him. He hadn’t expected to find out that Steve apparently also had another suit now and had apparently resumed his hero work without a word to his family.

“Well, it just so happens I can help you find our exceedingly patriotic friend,” Tony offered in response, fishing a small cellphone sized object out of his pocket. “Figured with you being all mama bear now and everything you might want a way of keeping track of the zoo. This little number here can tell you the locations of each suit. Since Cap’s the only one actually using his at the moment, it should be pretty easy to pick him out.”

Bucky looked down at the device as it was pushed into his hand. Even for all the anger, hurt, and confusion he felt in response to Steve’s lies and secrets, it felt like a violation to pinpoint what he was doing. He wanted to believe that Steve had a reason for not telling him- a reason that went beyond Steve’s lack of faith in him or some desire to be free of the weight he’d saddled himself with.

“If you just gawk at it all day it’s not going to tell you where that husband of yours has run off to to continue his illicit hero work. Gotta do some of the groundwork, Barnes,” Tony cut in, hovering over his shoulder.

Did Bucky even have the right to call him his husband anymore? For all he knew the fake relationship was crumbling before his eyes.

“Look, just bring up the menu here,” Tony reached in, calling the menu up before Bucky could protest. In reality, he didn’t want to protest. Some part of him wanted to know where Steve was and do exactly what Tony had suggested. Just because he wanted to relive his hero days didn’t mean he got to throw their kids under the bus for it. “And we click on Steve and… there we go. Tracking device activated.”

Sure enough, the screen lit up with an image of the globe. The image rapidly shifted and zoomed in, taking him to a digital map of a small island. A little red blip showed up on the screen, marking this as Steve’s location.

“Ah, creepy tropical island, is it?” Tony clucked his tongue. “Now _that_ doesn’t seem promising. When did you say he was supposed to be home?”

“I didn’t,” Bucky offered, stomach knotting in a mix of fiery rage and cool terror. “Yesterday, though. I haven’t heard from him in two days…” That was enough cause for worry on its own without the location. Even for all the lies, Steve had been fairly regular in calling him to let him know he was safe and sound. With this new piece of knowledge, the gentle hum of internal alarm was ramping up to a blare.

“Sounds like he might have bitten off a little more than he could chew. That’s just my professional opinion of course, I could be totally wrong,” Tony commented, though his tone sounded distinctly like he didn’t believe he was at all. “What’re you going to do about it, Barnes? I know you might be feeling inclined to let him punch his way out of this himself for lying to you, but-”

“How long will it take to install the arm?” For all that the idea did sound appealing to the angry part of his brain, a greater part of him couldn’t stand the idea of Steve potentially in danger. If there was something he could do about it, he needed to. Invading a secret island that may or may not contain the means to keep Steve tied up? That required he have all of his old tools with him.

“I can have it on you within the day,” Tony offered with a grin.


	11. And Then You Had To Go And Call For Help

Pierce hadn’t been around in what felt like hours. Steve hadn’t seen Natasha either, but he wasn’t sure that he was ready to face her yet. He’d held her at the same arm’s length as everyone else in the company, but the betrayal from her seemed to sting even deeper still. In any other situation, he might have counted her as a friend.

What the time did was help him assess the situation he was in. With no one watching him, he might even be able to attempt an escape. Pierce might have thought he had him contained, but Steve was excellent at defying people’s expectations. Steve also wasn’t the kind of person to stay down just because someone told him to.

No, he had bigger plans.

If he could just pull his arms in close enough then he could cross them. If he was lucky, he might be able to cross the power beams holding the shackles to the frame. That might not do much, but it might also fry them long enough for him to get free. The only thing that stood between him and that possibility was the strength to move the bonds. Pierce had been surprised by their ability to hold him, but that surprise had proved to hold true so far. His body was still exhausted and sore, but if he wanted to stop Pierce and reunite with his family, he needed to do _something_.

So Steve pulled. He pulled _hard_ , trying to bring his hands together. The beams that held him splayed in an almost ‘x’ hummed and buzzed, protesting the motion. For every small piece he gained, the strength of the bonds threatened to pull him back. He grunted, fighting against that pull with ever fiber of strength he had.

He couldn’t let Pierce win this one.

Steve’s whole body shook with the effort of pulling against the bonds. Tired muscles wanted to give way- he wouldn’t be able to win this. Each time he felt like he might not overcome the obstacle, the shackles would budge just a little bit closer. Inch by precious inch he pulled them closer together until the metal shackles encasing his hands clanged together. He shook and groaned, feeling like even a centimeter given back would result in his arms springing wide again, he tried to cross them.

The bonds sprang free of the beams in one quick motion, sending Steve pitching forward onto the floor of the platform. He crushed the metal shackles against the floor until they sprang open leaving their crumpled husks on the floor. Panting and heaving, he pulled himself to his feet despite the exhaustion. It wouldn’t be long before someone noticed he’d sprung free. He needed to be well on his way before that happened.

Steve didn’t even make it across the narrow pathway. There was a small ‘beep’ centering somewhere in the star on the front of his suit followed by the blaring of alarms from the building. The overhead lights turned off, the room suddenly awash in the crimson of emergency lights. Steve dashed towards the door, but as he was arriving the door slid open. There was a brief, blinding flash of light before he recognized the form of Burnside standing before him.

The android lunged forward, taking advantage of his moment of blindness and he found himself crashing to the metal walkway. Dizzy and off balance, he only just saw the fist being pulled back. He only managed to think “oh great, not again” before the room went abruptly dark once more.

* * *

 

“How do you think they’ll feel to find that it was their own tracking device that prevented your escape?” Pierce’s voice filtered through his thoughts as he started to come to. Again.

“Tracking device?” The words felt thick in his mouth as he blinked, trying to bring his eyes back into focus. He was back, strung up in the restraining device in the same room. His immediate thought was Tony, but Tony didn’t seem the type to activate it.

“This room is designed to alert of any incoming or outcoming transmissions that don’t come from that control panel.” Pierce gestured to the solitary control panel in the room. “So who’s looking for you, Rogers? Should we be prepared to roll out a welcome mat for them?” The sneer on Pierce’s face gave Steve a good idea what that “welcome” might entail.

“I don’t know,” Steve responded. He wouldn’t have told Pierce even if he had. “I didn’t know the suit had a tracker.” Should he have figured? Probably. He filed that away as another thing Pierce didn’t need to know.

“Well, we’ll just have to wait to see who it was, won’t we?” Pierce offered, a low chuckle causing Steve to hope they didn’t come. “If they’re looking for you, odds are they’ll be knocking at our doors soon.”

Pierce left without another word. Steve sent up another vague hope that whoever it was would wait just a little bit longer before coming. If anything, it served as motivation to try escape again.

* * *

 

Bucky hadn’t been expecting all the lights to be on when he pulled back up to the house in the wee hours of the morning. Tony’s “by the end of the day” had quite literally meant midnight, and that “by the end of the day” had been a hopeful estimate that ended up being a gross underestimate of the time it would take to attach the arm in place. The traces of grogginess might have faded quickly due to the serum that ran through his veins, but learning to reuse and rebalance a limb that he hadn’t had in years had proven challenge enough to make him weary by the time he reached home that evening.

Bucky shuffled through the doorway into the house, feet dragging on the carpet. He would have headed straight back to his room if the living room lights hadn’t been on, the soft sounds of the television floating through the house. He’d almost forgotten he’d called Sam until he stepped into the livingroom to find the other half-asleep on the couch. Whatever he had been watching, it was long over and had been replaced with late night infomercials. Both Wanda and Pietro had fallen asleep in the reclining chairs, blankets draped over them in a way that tugged a tired smile onto his face.

“Well that explains why you didn’t call to tell us you were going to be late,” Sam offered, eyes moving pointedly to the metal arm. Bucky swore at the comment- he should have thought to send them some kind of warning.

His response caused both Wanda and Pietro to stir on the couch, looking bleary-eyed over at him before their eyes widened.

“You didn’t think it was important to tell us they were _grafting something to your arm_?” Pietro asked, tiredness melting away in the face of his indignation and frustration.

“Well, if that’s what I’d set out to do when I left this morning I would have,” Bucky shot back in return. “Seems Tony played us all for a loop today.”

“Uncle Tony did _that?”_ Pietro responded, gasping aloud before his voice slipped into a murmur. “How come he gives all the cool stuff to you?”

“Trust me, pal, I’d rather have your arms than have to deal with this.” Bucky could hear the bite in his own voice and knew he should dial it back. Exhaustion made him less inclined to care. _They_ at least didn’t know they were being lied to yet.

“You don’t visit Tony often,” Wanda commented. The question was laced with curiosity, but Bucky wasn’t entirely certain where her curiosity was coming from. He pulled his thoughts in closer, trying not to broadcast them so loudly that she might pick up on them.

“Yeah, well, sometimes old friends call and it’s nice to get out of the house for a bit,” Bucky responded. He really need to pull back on the irritation, but he hadn’t been expecting conversation when he got home. He was still trying to process the information he’d learned today- Steve’s lies hit somewhere deep.

Wanda frowned, but chose not to say anything. Bucky worried he’d let too much emotion slip, and he didn’t want them to know how angry he was with their father. Not yet.

“I think everyone, myself included, could use a good night’s rest. It’s late,” Sam offered, breaking the tension as he blew out a breath of air and rose to a standing position.

“Kids, it’s bed time,” Bucky offered firmly to both Pietro and Wanda. Pietro grumbled, but another stern look had him moving towards his bedroom. Wanda gave him another look, seeming reluctant to leave him.

“Wanda, you have school in the morning,” Bucky intoned, trying to level out his feelings some.

“Yes, but-“

“Wanda,” Bucky started, somewhere between a sigh and trying to be serious. “Go sleep. I’ll be fine.” He offered her a small smile. “Sam’s here. If you can’t get help from your therapist, then who?”

That didn’t seem to make her feel any better about the possibility of leaving. She lingered, watching both Bucky and Sam for a moment as if she might be trying to glean something more.

“Come on, Wanda, leave him alone. He just wants to play with that new arm!” Pietro called from somewhere in the realm of his room.

“Pietro!” Bucky snapped back, expression fierce. Pietro’s laughter rang from the hallway before a shutting door signaled he’d gone into his room.

“Good night, Wanda,” Bucky offered, attempting to cool the words down despite his continued irritation at Pietro.

“Good night,” she finally conceded, reluctance painted in her features. She gave Bucky a quick hug, almost wary of the metal appendage, before she started back towards her room as well.

Once she’d left the room, Bucky sighed heavily and turned to Sam.

“So, gonna explain the terminator arm?” Sam asked, eyeing it.

“Steve, that _asshole_ , is off on some island doing god knows what,” Bucky responded, the words coming out in a growl. He wasn’t mad at Sam, who for his part seemed as surprised by the information as he’d been when he got it, but it didn’t stop him from being angry. Angry, dismayed, and _exhausted_. “Did you know he got fired from Hammer Industries?”

“He might have mentioned that,” Sam conceded, nodding his head despite the venomous look Bucky gave him. It only confirmed that Sam had known something when he’d called before and said nothing. Bucky wondered what else Sam knew that he wasn’t telling him.

“Then did you know he was resuming hero work?” Bucky asked, anger preparing to rise. If Sam had known and not told him that, he wasn’t sure he could forgive him.

“No, I didn’t,” Sam responded. “And before you go on ripping me a new one, I’ll have you know that I called Steve after we talked and encouraged him to be open and honest with you. He told me he had some job he couldn’t give the details of yet, but I didn’t know any more than you.” Sam’s tone was surprisingly even for finding out that Steve had also been keeping secrets from him. Bucky wasn’t sure that he felt better, knowing Steve had gone against Sam’s advice and kept secrets from him as well.

“Well, he _has_ ,” Bucky responded, frustration lacing every word. “And I found out from Tony. Of all the people who could’ve known because he made him the damn suits.”

“Tony helped him?” Sam asked, quirking a brow though he kept his voice even. Bucky recognized it as his tactic to keep him talking, but at this point he needed it. He’d been simmering in the thoughts since he left Stark Tower.

“Yeah. Oh, and he decided to make suits for the rest of us, too. Including Peter for Christ’s sake!” He attempted to keep his voice low, the words coming out like harsh, angry whispers. “That’s why he had the arm ready. Smug bastard probably figured I was going to come anyway.”

“And you took it?” Sam asked him. “Knowing it might be a violation of your agreement with the ERA people?”

“Steve’s shot it all to hell already, don’t know how it can get any worse,” Bucky responded with a growl. “But yeah I took it. Steve’s gotten himself in some kind of trouble so it’s up to me to get him out of it before he ends up killed. I think this goes past any trouble with the Council.” Plus, Bucky had some things to say to Steve about this whole mess. “You know if he wanted to be free of us he only had to _say_ so.” The words came out almost sullen, voicing a hurt he hadn’t realized how deeply he felt until he’d expressed it.

“Wait.” Sam perked up at the statement. “What makes you think that?” The statement engaged him, but the look on his face didn’t come with any sense of surprise.

“Keeping secrets like this? Going off to do hero work god knows where?” Bucky offered, tone losing some of its anger as the deeper hurts came forward. “Isn’t that how it starts? Lies and secrets? I’ve felt him growing distant, Sam. I always figured it was only a matter of time before he got tired of this charade. Maybe he finally he has.”

“Look, I don’t want to say you’re overreacting to the situation. Your feelings are valid because you feel them,” Sam responded, slipping even further into ‘therapist’ mode. “But you can help how you handle them. I happen to think Steve’s crazy about you and those kids. The only way we’ll know which one of us is right? Talk to him. Once you save his ass from whatever he’s managed to get himself into.”

Sam’s offer made sense, though he knew it also wasn’t the first time Sam had made it. When he’d come to live with Steve seven years ago he’d never imagined ending up like _this_. Even more, he’d never expected to like the idea of being domestic with anyone, much less the guy who’d just happened to take him in. Talking to Steve about the complicated feelings he’d developed involved putting himself on the line and making himself vulnerable. He wasn’t sure he wanted to do that. That was part of the reason things had gotten so far as they had and part of the reason why they hadn’t talked yet.

“The only way to get answers is to be up front,” Sam responded. “You can spend seven more years beating yourself up over it, or you can take the challenge head on. I know we talked about waiting until you’re ready, but if you keep letting it eat at you like this, you might never have that conversation.”

“I have to go save his sorry ass, first. You wouldn’t happen to be available tomorrow?” Bucky asked him, choosing not to think about the conversation anymore for the time being. “Stark’s lending me a jet. I’m going after him.”

“I’ve got clients all day, but I can come check on the kids in the evening,” Sam responded. “I’ll make sure they’re fed a good meal and don’t throw a party, alright? Bring our boy home.” Sam’s words, though delivered in his usual casual manner, carried an earnest sincerity that brought a grateful smile to Bucky’s face. Bucky didn’t know what they’d done to deserve him as a friend, but he was appreciative.

“I’ll sure as hell try,” he responded with a huff. As much as irritation still burned through him, anger at Steve for putting himself in a situation that seemed like peril, he was relieved at the offer. With the kids taken care of, he could take care of whatever _this_ was.

“Now you need rest every bit as much as those kids. Especially with that thing back,” Sam offered, eyeing the arm for a moment. “I’ll come around tomorrow evening. Good night, Barnes.”

“Night, Sam.” It didn’t take long for exhaustion to seep back into his bones. He let Sam out the front door before turning back to his room. On his way down the hall, he fixed a few off-kilter photos before slipping into his own room. With any luck, the next time he occupied this bed it wouldn’t be just him in it.


	12. Something's Up with Mom, We Have to Find Out What

Bucky hated leaving the kids on such short notice, especially with Sam unable to come to the house until much later that evening due to appointments. As he piloted Stark’s jet through the skies towards Steve’s last known location, he felt himself slipping back into a persona he hadn’t known he had. It must have been a vestige of going on missions before, though those memories were hazy at best. In the seven years since he had been snapped free from the control exerted over him, memories of himself had slowly overtaken the memories of those times when he’d had hazy recollection at best. All the same, the feeling of calm composure as he flew a jet into the threat of great potential danger was oddly comforting all the same.

He had no idea what Steve had gotten himself into, but he was _furious_. The irritation that Steve would charge headlong into something without warning any of them that he was going to do it burned brightly, fueling him as he moved forward. It took all of his inner restraint not to crack the joystick of the jet with the regained use of both arms. He was going to _kill_ him, when he found him. And if Steve had died? He was going to bring him back so he could do the job himself. Slowly and painfully, if given the choice.

As the jet crept closer to the island where Steve’s tracker had gone off, Bucky turned the autopilot on so he could dress into his own gear. He hadn’t wanted to alarm the kids when he’d left the house despite their curiosity over the new arm and the fact that he’d come home laden with “gifts” from Tony Stark. They didn’t know who they were for, and if he could keep it that way he would count it as a small victory.

The whipping of air through the back of the jet was the first thing that put Bucky onto something when he slipped back into the front portion of the jet after donning his gear and assessing the weapons (if any) that Tony had given him to take on his rescue mission. No alarms were blaring, immediately negating the possibility of a breach to the outside. There was only-

“Pietro! Goddammit show yourself!” he all but snarled into the open space, the gyros in his arm whirring furiously to indicate his mood. “Wanda, I swear, if you’re here, too.”

“When were you planning on telling us that dad was in trouble, huh?” Pietro offered, appearing in the blink of an eye. “Or that the reason Stark gave you a new arm was so that you could go charging in after him? Both parents on a suicide mission?” Pietro’s words matched Bucky’s in fury as Wanda appeared much more hesitantly behind her brother’s back, though the look on her face said she had been no less resolved to come after him.

“I was hoping to avoid _anyone_ having to know that your father has gone and gotten himself into trouble,” Bucky offered both of them, fury downgrading to immense irritation over how worried they looked. He glanced about the jet, trying to smooth out some of his irritation and checking for any other tag alongs. “How’d you even find out about all of this?”

“You were so busy weeping all over Sam—” Pietro started, only to get a warning look from Wanda. “Okay, telling him about what was going on, that you didn’t even noticed we were eavesdropping in the hallway.”

“And we weren’t going to let you go in alone,” Wanda responded. “We want to help.”

“Kids, I appreciate it. I do,” Bucky started, trying to put a cork on his irritation. It wasn’t just directed at them anymore, but also at himself for getting so caught up in his own emotions that he’d allowed the kids to feel like they needed to be here helping him. “But I had this handled, okay? I’ve done this before.”

“Well, we’re here now. So we’ll make do, won’t we?” Pietro asked, the look on his face confident and just a tad smug.

“Please tell me that you _didn’t_ bring Peter along, too?” Annoyance and helplessness laced his tone, and he huffed in frustration. As much as he hated the thought of turning around, that would be a deal breaker.

“No, we’re entirely irresponsible,” Pietro responded, rolling his eyes as the sarcasm laced his voice. “Wanda called a friend of hers from school.”

“A friend of yours from school?” Bucky asked, eyes turning intently towards his daughter.

“Scott runs a babysitting service. He was more than happy to come over and watch Peter until Sam was available,” Wanda supplied matter-of-factly.

“Scott? As in Scott _Lang?”_ Bucky asked her in disbelief. He remembered the kid walking to the car with Wanda occasionally. He was nice enough, but from those brief glimpses there was a mild horror at the idea of the kid being in charge of his _youngest_.

“Yes,” Wanda responded. “He has good reviews on his babysitting profile and Peter already knows him. He was the best choice short of calling Sam.” There was a very clear indication in her tone that calling Sam meant he would have found out sooner.

“You’re sure he’s okay?” Bucky asked, heaving an irritated sigh. This was _not_ how he’d wanted this to go. “Do you know how much more complicated you have made this?”

Wanda didn’t get a chance to respond to Bucky’s question because almost immediately after he’d finished, the warning signs inside the jet started blaring. Bucky whipped his head back towards the pilot’s chair for a moment before fixing both of them with a serious look. “We are _not_ done with this conversation!”

He slipped back into the pilot’s chair roughly, eyes flicking back and forth between the various monitors on the screens. Trouble was incoming and _fast_.

* * *

 

Steve was caught off guard when sirens began blaring through the room. His head swung about, trying to take the room around him in even though his eyes hadn’t completely come back into focus yet. Two shapes standing by the control panels alerted him to people in the room. As they came into focus, his eyes narrowed- Pierce and Natasha. They were both watching him expectantly, though Pierce’s eyes betrayed irritation flashing behind them even if he attempted to hold composure.

“If you didn’t know about the tracker in your suit,” Pierce started, voice deceptively calm. “Then why do we have an aircraft attempting to enter our airspace? An aircraft that appears to be designed by Stark Industries.”

“I don’t.. I don’t know who it is,” Steve responded, voice still groggy as he tried to pull himself together. He didn’t want Pierce to know that he had _ideas_ on who it was. Had Tony come for him? Tony had been the one to put the tracker in the suit, so he was the only one who could possibly know where he was.

“If you don’t know who it is, then I suppose you won’t mind if we send them a little present?” Pierce asked him in return. He clicked a few buttons on the control panel, and Steve struggled against the hold.

“They’re innocent!” he protested.

“We have kept the airspace over this island clear for _years_ and you think that hours after your tracking device activated that someone would simply slip into our airspace? Please, Rogers. Let us not believe each other idiots.”

“Oh, look. They’re sending us a transmission. Should we see who it is?” Pierce clicked another button on the control panel, allowing the crackling of a radio transmission to filter through the whole room.

 _“This is India-Golf-Niner-Niner. We are off course.”_ Steve’s eyes widened as he heard Bucky’s voice filter, amplified through the room. What was Bucky doing? _“Please disengage. I repeat, please disengage. We will find our way back to our flightpath.”_ Bucky was surprisingly calm for whatever horror Pierce had sent their way, but the words made his blood run cold. Bucky was here? It couldn’t be an accident, which meant that Bucky was coming to look for him.

He didn’t know how Bucky had found out, but now he was in danger. His stomach twisted itself in knots, forcing him to feel ill at the notion.

“See, Rogers? Don’t play me for the fool,” Pierce responded. “How long was it before you planned on Barnes coming to rescue you? Was this always part of your little lovers charade?”

 _“I repeat, disengage! There are children aboard!”_ Bucky’s voice came across more frantic on the radio, the calm demeanor that Bucky had been holding in the first transmission lost. Steve could hear the very real fear, and it mirrored in his own terror. The kids were with him. _The kids were with him_. His whole family in danger and he was helpless.

 _“I repeat, there are children aboard! Disengage so we can resume our flightpath!”_ But Bucky’s charade already felt broken in Steve’s mind. He wouldn’t have admitted to the children being there if he wasn’t terrified of what might happen to them.

“Please, let them go!” Steve responded. “You have me. You have what you wanted, now _let them go_.”

“Rogers, you are mistakenly under the impression that you are the only piece of the puzzle we wanted out of this,” Pierce responded, voice cool and unaffected by Bucky’s repeated insistent pleas for them to disengage.

“He’s no use to you if you blow him out of the sky!”

“He’s not fragile.” Pierce’s words fell with a cruel sort of pleasure. “Maybe soft as you’ve allowed him to become. It will take more than this to kill him.”

* * *

 

“Shit, shit, shit, _fuck!”_ Bucky slammed a hand against the control panel of the plane, alarms still blaring as the monitors display the missiles encroaching ever closer on the jet. “Kids! Strap yourselves in _now!_ ”

He could out maneuver this. He _had to_. He slammed the transmission link open to the island, a last ditch effort as he pulled on whatever semblance of calm he could.

“This is India-Golf-Niner-Niner. We are off course,” he tried, delivering each word with a forced calm. “Please disengage. I repeat, please disengage. We will find our way back to our flightpath.” If anything solidified the royal amount of trouble that Steve had gotten himself into it was _this_. He pulled the plane into a quick dive, trying to tune out the panicked sounds of Wanda and Pietro strapped in not far behind him. He needed to find a way to get them to safety or they’d all be in trouble.

Nothing. The missiles didn’t even budge from their course as he pulled the plane into a spin, only just narrowly avoiding being barraged by the pack following them. They weren’t going to last long like this.

“Wanda! I need you to do something to stop those missiles!” he called back, looking back over at his children for a moment. They’d never seen a situation like this before. He hadn’t _wanted_ them to, and now he was having to treat them as pawns. Players to be moved to ensure survival.

“I don’t know if I _can_ ,” Wanda responded, doubt and fear apparent in her voice. The small quiver broke his heart, another part of him irritated at the backtalk.

“Well, if you don’t we may not make it through this!” Shit. That was not the kind of thing to say to your children.

“I repeat, disengage! There are children aboard!” he shouted into the intercom again, cursing mentally at the panic in his own voice. “I repeat, there are children aboard! Disengage so we can resume our flightpath!”

He hadn’t wanted to announce their presence but it was the only thing he had that might make the people on land call off their missile attack. It was a gamble, but if the person calling the shots had even the smallest bit of a heart-

The missiles didn’t budge and he swore again. They were getting closer by the moment and no matter what he tried, the plane didn’t seem able to outpace them. He took into a dive, positioning them closer to the water. The smaller a fall-

“Wanda! Please! _Now!_ ”

She was trying. Her hands showed the signs, glowing faintly red as she focused on the missiles outside the cabin. They were almost visible now, the alarms blaring with even more frequency. The moments between them were running together, alerting him to just how close they were, just how little time they had-

“Get down!” he cried, pulling himself out of the seat in a last ditch effort, grabbing a parachute and only just managing to snap it on before he was wrapping himself as much around his children as he could muster. “Hold onto me!” In a last ditch effort, Bucky threw up a layer of ice, as quick as he could manage in the moments before impact. It was the best protection he could offer them.

The plane shattered and fractured around them, everything rocking and chaotic as it came apart on missile contact. He held tightly to both Wanda and Pietro through the mess, crying out as debris and carnage blazed around them. Parts of the crumbling jet battered against the shield of ice until it shattered, raining debris down on the three of them. Sharp, hot pieces of metal lanced across any exposed skin as they were deflected by the suit. The suit did its job well, absorbing blows and keeping out the debris, but it didn’t stop pain from radiating through what lay uncovered.

The plane broke apart and they were _falling_ , plummeting towards the ocean below. The parachute opened, and Bucky clung to Wanda and Pietro hoping that it might just be enough to save them.

* * *

 

“We have a confirmed hit,” Natasha intoned, her voice sounding morose. Steve didn’t miss the small dip in her head even as the crushing weight of his own despair came crashing down around him.

“Send someone out to collect the Winter Soldier ,” Pierce commanded before he turned to Steve. “It’s a shame. This could all have been avoided if you’d just gone with our plans.” Pierce shook his head, feigning disappointment over the turn of events.

Steve couldn’t even bring himself to watch him walk away. He wasn’t sure he could bear the confidence in Pierce’s walk, the utter lack of sympathy. While he seemed certain that Bucky must have survived the missile attack… The kids.

The thought of Wanda and Pietro brought a dizzying wave of grief, warmth flooding his face as he tried to push back the tears he felt. Natasha hadn’t left, and he wasn’t going to give her the benefit of seeing him grieve over those he’d just lost. He pulled it back in even though it threatened to rip him apart at the scenes.

Bucky’s panic echoed in his ears even as the transmission had long gone dead. Steve could only imagine it echoed with Wanda and Pietro and- God, he hoped Peter had not been on the plane. The very thought sent a shudder through his whole body, unbidden and yet unable to be held back.

Gone. _Gone._

“I’m not very good at condolences,” Natasha offered quietly, and it was only then that he realized how close she had come to where he was held. “But I didn’t know Barnes would be bringing the kids with him.”

“ _You_ could have stopped him,” Steve responded, fury blazing in his voice in the face of grief. “You were standing at the control panel, you could have-”

“I’m sorry, Rogers.” The words came out surprisingly genuine before she turned to leave the room as well.

It was only after the doors had slid shut that he allowed himself to grieve.

* * *

 

Bucky came to with the sounds of waves washing up against the shore. He groaned, trying to shake off the aches that he felt in every bone of his body. It didn’t take more than a few moments for the memories of the explosion to filter through his head, trying to protect the kids…

The kids.

He sat up suddenly, looking about wildly for a few moments before a steady hand was placed on his chest. He looked over to see Wanda, letting out a breath of relief that she seemed unharmed.

“Welcome.. Back to the land.. Of the living..,” Pietro panted, and Bucky turned to find him laying on the sand next to him looking like he’d just run a marathon. “Has anyone ever told you how _heavy_ you are? Trying to drag your ass to shore.”

“Gonna make it a habit of insulting the person who saved your life?” Bucky asked him in response, weariness bringing out irritation.

“As far as I’m concerned, we’re even,” Pietro responded. “You took the explosion, I made sure we all made it to shore. You saved me, I saved you.”

Bucky supposed that was fair. He let it rest for the moment, trying to take stock of where they were. There weren’t many islands in the area, which meant the likelihood Pietro had carried them to the island where Steve was being held was high. Which meant the likelihood there were people out guarding it was also very high.

“We need to find cover,” Bucky offered. “There’s gotta be a cave or something up by the hills. You ready to move?”

“Oh yeah, sure. Didn’t just run three people to shore or anything,” Pietro responded.

Bucky sighed, taking a moment before he decided it might be better to switch tactics with their son. “I appreciate that, Pietro,” he offered, voice softening a little as he placed a hand on his shoulder. “But if we want to stay alive then we need to move. There might be people out looking for us.”

“He’s right,” Wanda supplied, cutting in. “Come on, Pietro. You’ll rest easier in a cave than here where it’s windy.”

Though the look Pietro gave him was still decidedly weary, he seemed to take their combined efforts to heart. Rocking up to a sitting position, he attempted to brush the sand off his drying suit before he stood.

They tramped off the beach, making their way into the thick jungle of the island. Exhausted, aching, and shaken from the plane crash, their walk was mostly silent. The only thing Bucky could count as a positive besides not being dead was the fact that Tony had at least made their suits out of something that dried quickly. He trudged along ahead of Wanda and Pietro, eyes and ears open for signs of trouble or danger. He’d lost most of the weaponry Tony had provided when the plane went down, but the metal arm would provide some cover and protection if they really needed it. At the very least, he could provide distraction for the kids to get away.

Eventually they managed to find themselves at the hills. Sure enough, there was a cave nestled in the base of the mountains. When they reached the cave, Pietro collapsed dramatically onto the floor. Bucky felt his energy spent as well, but now that the kids were safely tucked somewhere he had other items on his own agenda.

“Kids, I want you to listen here,” Bucky offered, fixing them each with a look. “We’re in enemy territory now. The people we’ll find on this island, they’re not our allies.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Pietro responded with the roll of his eyes. Wanda gave him a disapproving look before her eyes turned back to Bucky.

“You’re right, I’m not,” Bucky responded. “If they find you here, the odds are they’re gonna shoot at you. And they’re not gonna shoot just to scare you; they’ll be aiming to kill. I need you both to be careful. I know you’ll look out for each other, but while I’m looking for your father I need to stay low. Don’t come out of the cave unless you have to, don’t engage anyone unless they engage you, and don’t tell them who you are. You may think it’ll save you, but it’s more likely to get you in a whole lot of trouble. Can I trust you?”

“Of course,” Wanda responded. “We’ll stay here until you come back.”

“And why can’t we go? Won’t we be useful?” Pietro asked, bristling a little. Bucky felt his own anger starting to rise, protective and born out of a fear of what others might do to them and Pietro’s lack of understanding.

“Because it’s gonna be a whole lot easier for me to get in and get out if it’s just me,” Bucky responded. “Soon’s we get your father back, we’re going to aim to get off this island as fast as possible.” That was an optimistic outcome, and one he knew wasn’t likely to happen. He didn’t need the kids to know that, however, and it was the one moment where he hoped Wanda wasn’t trying to read his mind.

“What should we do if they find us?” Wanda asked him, her face displaying a good deal of discomfort at the question.

“You know those powers your father and I have been telling you not to use?” Bucky responded. “Well, if someone comes after you, I want you to use them as much as necessary to get away. They won’t exercise caution with you, so I don’t expect you to exercise caution with them.” Which probably wasn’t the best thing to tell his teenage children, but he couldn’t fathom the idea of losing them. He sighed, trying to find a better way to put it. “Do whatever you have to do to get away. I can’t stand the idea of losing either of you.”

Wanda nodded solemnly, and even Pietro seemed to calm himself at that. Bucky hoped they understood the lengths he would go to for each of them, and how much he didn’t want to leave them here alone while he went in search of Steve. It was the best option he knew. They were far less likely to be attacked here than they would be if they went with him.

“I’ll be back as soon as I find him. Take care of yourselves and each other,” he offered them both. He pulled them both into a hug, trying to remember it as a tender gesture instead of the desperate cling he’d had on the jet. He held them there for a few moments, enjoying the way they both folded in against him in tender, tense silence.

The need to find Steve pulled him away from his children. Bucky separated himself slowly from his children, reluctant to let the moment pass. He only hoped that, whatever Steve had gotten into, he could get him out and they’d have the opportunity for more of these.

“We love you,” Wanda offered quietly, and for just a moment the facade of a brave face crumbled into the fragile look of a teenage. Even Pietro’s had faded some, concern reflecting in his features.

“I love you both, too,” Bucky offered them, tone turning gruff as he attempted to stuff down the emotions. “I’ll be back.”

And then he was off, disappearing through the trees to find his way across the island. He _knew_ Steve was here- Tony’s map had said so. The missiles had only further confirmed that along with confirming the hostility of whoever had Steve. It was a good thing Bucky paid attention, or Steve might have been left here to rot with his ‘not telling anyone’ approach to all of this.

Frustration mingled with determination helped fuel Bucky through the thick vegetation of the jungle. He stuck close to the mountains, figuring that if there was a secret facility they might use them as a place to hide it. The satellite images Tony pulled up hadn’t given him much clue other than most of it couldn’t be on the surface.

If not for the very obvious attack, Bucky might have assumed that Steve had merely crash landed here on his way to wherever he was going. There didn’t seem to be much _on_ the island apart from bugs, humidity, and the copious amount of plants that grew up everywhere. Bucky kept his eye out for any signs of something, a new sort of awareness coming to life as he moved. It was like slipping back into a skin he hadn’t quite known was his, but as he moved through the jungle his steps became quieter, motions more fluid, and the jungle opened up around him.

He heard the whine of something before he found himself standing at the edge of the forest. Beyond it, trees had been cleared to make way for a monorail of some kind. Bucky watched from the edge of the foliage, careful to keep in the dark as a small pod whizzed past carrying people. It was the first sign of others he’d seen on the island, and if he had to guess they were heading to the main facilities.

When the next pod came around, Bucky was ready. Having climbed in a nearby tree, he sprang from it onto the top of the speeding vehicle. He plastered himself to the top, clinging to what small purchase he could find as it wound its way along the railing. Luck seemed to hold out as the pod neither slowed nor stopped to investigate his landing. He’d certainly _tried_ not to make it loud.

As the pod sped along, the trees feel out from around it and the facility finally came into view. Tucked in tightly against the mountain, the only clues that it even existed came in the transition from dirt into concrete and the smattering of windows that glittered against the rising stone. A row of identical pods to the one he was riding on lined up under a rocky overhang.

Bucky jumped off the pod before it got too close, aware that there might be eyes watching from above. The goal was to get Steve out as quietly and quickly as possible, not get caught the moment he got anywhere close. When no alarm sirens blared and no guards came flooding out the doors of the facility, Bucky considered himself safe and slipped along the edges until he had reached one of the doors.

It might not have been _the_ most effective way to get the door open, but the metal arm made very quick work of prying one of the metal doors open just enough for Bucky to slide through into the facility. The door closed behind him, looking remarkably untouched. Buck clenched and released the metal hand a few times, listening to the whir of the servos to make sure he hadn’t damaged anything. Tony’s work appeared to be holding up well.

Bucky’s luck seemed to hold out as the first hallway he took led him to what looked like a security room of some kind. The guards inside were playing some card game across the console in front of them, laughing and carrying on instead of watching the myriad of screens. Goons was probably a better word for them Bucky thought privately. Bored and complacent, they certainly didn’t appear to be taking their job seriously anymore.

Their lack of caution gave Bucky the chance to peer at their monitors without being noticed. Eyes moving from one monitor to the next as quickly as he could, his patience and comfort standing by the doorway was almost at its breaking point when the familiar shape of Steve’s body finally appeared on one of the screens. He was strung up, captured in some kind of device. Bucky only got a brief glimpse at where Steve was located before footsteps down the hallway had him ducking for cover.

* * *

 

Though neither Pierce nor anyone else had come to visit Steve’s cell since the jet attack, he hadn’t yet been able to muster the will to escape. _Bucky_. The panicked words as he’d entreated them to call off the missiles had cycled through his head on repeat for hours. While Pierce seemed certain that Bucky had somehow survived, Steve couldn’t muster the same faith. _Wanda and Pietro_. Whenever his thoughts turned towards his children,the twist in his gut was so intense that it drew out another weak, broken noise.

He hadn’t even allowed himself to dwell on the idea of Peter being there as well for more than a few seconds, afraid it would break him irreparably.

The weight of the grief settled so fully that even his rage towards Pierce seemed dull in comparison. Even if they did manage to find Bucky, what shape would he be in? If they didn’t find him right away, how long could he have even kept himself afloat before exhaustion overtook him? For all that Steve attempted to turn his thoughts elsewhere, they seemed to circle back around to the family he’d likely lost.

When the doors opened, it took almost more energy than he could muster to look up. The shock of red hair informed him that it was Natasha, and not Pierce, who had come into the holding room.

“What do you want?” he growled, though it sounded pathetic even to his own ears.

“I prefer to keep things closer to my chest, Rogers,” Natasha responded, putting a finger to her lips to signal quiet. “Especially when there are ears in the most unlikely of places.”

The room was wired for audio, though he was guessing she’d somehow disabled any cameras if there even were any in this apparently secret room in the facilities. Natasha made her way across the walkway before she eyed the control panel expectantly. She tapped a few buttons before she turned to him.

“Now that the room is cut off, where were we?” she asked.

“Care to explain why you’re here now?” Steve asked, voice hard. “I don’t have time for games Natasha.”

“Here I thought we were friends.” Natasha’s voice kept its dry, almost amused tone though there was an undercutting of seriousness unusual to her. “And that you might want out of those bonds.”

“You let him kill them,” Steve responded, feeling the wave of grief rising once more, threatening to consume. “You could have stopped him. _My kids_ —”

“I happen to have intel that might be of interest to you,” Natasha responded. “But first, you should let me make sure we both survive long enough for you to hear it. Preferably outside these walls.”

“Where would you get that?” Steve asked. He couldn’t imagine anything she could possibly know that he would want to know. He wanted to be on the quickest route home to collect Peter and get as far away as possible before the Council came and attempted to take him, too.

“Now I’m not supposed to tell anyone,” Natasha responded. “But you look like you could keep a secret, and I like you, Rogers. I’m here on behalf of Fury. To observe, investigate, and report on what Pierce is doing here.”

“Don’t you think launching missiles at innocent people required action?” Steve asked, voice low. He shouldn’t have been surprised Fury had someone here, but from what Pierce had told him he’d have thought they would have acted by now.

“I’m on strict orders not to blow my cover. You’re lucky Pierce is preoccupied right now or I wouldn’t even be able to offer this,” Natasha responded, clicking a button. The bonds evaporated, sending Steve to the floor once more. This time, however, the shackles clicked open automatically and gave him some freedom immediately. “My advice to you? Run. Go find your family on the island, and _get out_. There’s no guarantee how long I can keep him from noticing you’re missing. So go.” She shooed him off.

“They’re really out there, the kids too?” he asked warily. He didn’t dare get his hopes up now- not when he knew it would crush him to find out they hadn’t.

“Yes. Pierce may not think they’re out there, but I’d like to consider myself at least moderately smarter,” she offered with a smirk. “Now, get out of here.”

Steve paused for a moment, debating how to properly show his thanks. Natasha had offered him some small piece of hope and escape. She gestured for him to leave, and he turned towards the door only to find it sliding open. Steve prepared himself, slipping into a battle stance as he prepared to fight whoever might be coming.


	13. I'm Just Happy You're Alive

While Bucky had located Steve’s room number, finding the room itself was far harder. The facilities were large, sprawling once he got past the facade of the mountain. There was little guidance as to where he was or where hallways might lead him, so he’d had to slip through and listen for the sounds of others moving. 

It would have been asking too much not to run into guards as he moved through the building. Bucky had hoped he might be able to find a way to avoid them, but as he slipped around a corner he found himself face to face with a pair of guards coming in his direction. Before they could even finish their initial cries of surprise, Bucky had instinctively covered the two in a sheet of ice. Frozen for the moment, Bucky shoved them into a closet just a bit down the hallway before continuing onwards. 

As Bucky searched, it became almost methodical to disarm or disable the guards in the facility. When you were stronger, faster, and had the power to conjure ice on your side, it was surprisingly easy to combat even the armed guards. He hated leaving a trail of where he’d been in the building, so it became a task to hide his work as he moved about in search of Steve. 

It was at this point, more irritated with the journey than he supposed he should have been, that Bucky finally found himself in a lavish dining room, faced with an elaborate lava mural on one side. The room didn’t seem to hold any promise, but he swept it anyway. There was only so much room in the facility, so much time he could waste before somebody realized he was here. Taking time on the room was a gamble, but with how many places he’d found empty so far, he was running out of options. 

As he slipped through the room, he noticed one of the elaborate statues had been pulled away just slightly from the wall. Circling it, he found an exposed panel, buttons and a lever sitting in almost broad daylight. Whatever idiot had last come through here had forgotten to hide it again. Their loss was definitely his gain. He pulled the lever, almost grinning as the wall of “lava” split in two to reveal a decidedly secret passage. 

Bucky only hoped that it was _this_ secret passage that hid Steve. Taking a deep breath, he slid onto the narrow walkway and set his sights on the room at the other end. The passage was short, but as he came out it widened into a much more cavernous space. It was dark but for the illuminated path and- 

Steve. Steve, crouched in a battle stance like he was getting ready to fight whoever had come through, and a woman standing behind him. 

Bucky had known he had no right to be jealous the whole seven years they lived together. For all that his feelings had grown complicated and far more genuine than they should have, he knew that Steve was technically free and entitled to find someone. If he did, the charade would end and they would go their separate ways. Even now, there was very little to connect Steve with the redhead standing behind him, her battle stance also ready. The frustration he’d already been harboring flared suddenly, sparked by emotions he knew were overreacting. 

Here Steve was, standing in front of him in his _new_ suit as a clear image that he had reentered the role of hero. He’d lied and he’d gone behind Bucky’s back, so who was to say he hadn’t taken it one step further and foregone their agreement? 

“Look here, you asshole,” Bucky growled at him. He knew now was probably not the time to be having this argument, but all the same his irritation burned. He glanced over at the womanbefore his gaze fell back to Steve. “If you were getting tired of all this you could have _told_ me like a goddamn adult instead of making me find out like-” 

Bucky cut off when he realized Steve had closed the distance between them while he’d been snarling the words that had played through his mind so many times the last few weeks. He would have kept going if it hadn’t been for the dumb look on Steve’s face. He looked like a kicked puppy and one that was about to _cry_. 

Before Bucky could figure out where he’d left off in his rant, Steve had wrapped him in his arms. The hug was tight, nearly crushing. When Steve’s shoulders started to shake as he held onto him like he was all that mattered in the world, all the fight went right out of Bucky’s body. 

“I thought I lost you,” Steve croaked, each word wavering with emotion as he pulled Bucky in tighter. “You and the kids…” He trailed off, and though Bucky could tell it took him great effort not to, Steve looked like he might start crying. 

“You think I was going to let something like a plane crash keep me from coming to remind you what kind of idiot you are?” Bucky asked him in response, the rebuke much softer than it had been originally intended to be. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, pal.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Steve offered, and this time he _sniffed_. 

Before Bucky knew exactly what was happening, Steve pulled him into a kiss. Bucky found himself melting into it, his whole body pressing into Steve’s. While neither one of them had said it, there seemed to be some kind of new understanding. However this had started, it was something entirely different. 

The kiss was cut short when alarm sirens began blaring, red lights flashing throughout the holding room where he’d found Steve. He pulled away, momentarily annoyed with the untimely interruption of their reunion, before he- 

“The kids,” he gasped, looking back to Steve with wide eyes. Steve’s eyes widened in return, his own protective panic mirrored. It was hard to believe it could be anything else. 

“They’re in the jungles. Just outside the facility,” Natasha responded. “He’s sent people after them. You’ll want to hurry.” 

“Thank you,” Steve offered her. His gratitude earning a momentary spike of irritation from Bucky. He scowled at her despite the helpful information. There was still a part of him that wanted to be petty about the woman who seemed far too friendly with his husband. 

“Get your kids. Bring them to the edge of the island and I will make sure that you all have transport off,” Natasha offered them both, face turning stony and business-like. 

“And what makes you think I trust that? You could capture us again,” Bucky responded with a scowl. “Took you an awful long time to help Steve get out.” 

“Buck-” Steve protested. 

“Look here. Because it’s for my kids? I’m gonna trust you because he does,” he conceded. Steve seemed to trust her and he’d grudgingly give her that. For now. “But if you double-cross us? I have no qualms about painting this room with your insides. Got it?” 

To her credit, Natasha didn’t seem fazed. She gave him a nod of understanding before Steve pulled Bucky out the door so they could go find their children. 

Bucky was momentarily glad for all the guards he’d incapacitated on his way to get Steve. The lack of guard presence in the hallway gave them quick access through the corridors. Bucky only hoped that the lack of guards in the hallways was a result of his earlier runthrough and not because they were out chasing Wanda and Pietro who knew where on the island. That worry was enough to fuel him to pick up his pace, sprinting faster through the hallways with Steve at his side.

Bucky did pause for a moment when they sprinted past the security room he’d used to locate Steve. The screens also showed various views of the island, giving him a chance to try locating their kids. A number of guards were already mobilized trying to track down Wanda and Pietro somewhere in the lush jungle. To the kids’ credit, they seemed to be holding their own against all odds, the flashes caught on the cameras showing them employing their powers to keep the guards at bay whenever they got close. 

They’d always been so careful about instilling in the children a care about their powers, a caution of showing them to anyone or anywhere they might be seen. Worry over the ERA had kept them from really developing their skills, but seeing them now? It was something amazing. Pietro was a blur on the cameras, zipping from spot to spot as he disabled guards and dodged around them. Wanda, with the help of the gloves Stark had gifted her, seemed to do just as well holding her own against the guards as well. What they accomplished alone was nothing compared to them working in tandem, Pietro’s speed and Wanda’s gifts helping keep them ahead of the guards who tried to catch them.

The kids were doing well until they weren’t. All of a sudden there were more guards than two untrained teenagers could take on. Bucky hadn’t yet figured out where they were, but he knew that they’d only last minutes longer. Tearing himself away from the screen, he pushed forward, dragging Steve along with him. They had to get to the kids. They had to _stop them_. God so help them he would rip the guards’ limbs from their bodies if it meant keeping his children safe. 

Until they rounded a corner and ran into their own obstacle. Though the hallway was free of guards, a solitary figure stood between them and the exit out of the facility. Tall and broad, the blonde man would have reminded Bucky of Steve if he wasn’t wearing what could best be described as a twisted grin on his features. 

“Burnside,” Steve growled, stepping up next to Bucky as he almost slid to a halt.

“Burnside?” Bucky wasn’t nearly as certain of the man in front of them, but Steve was already taking a stance in preparation for a fight. 

“He’s an android. Pierce built him to take on people like us when the Act failed,” Steve’s explanation was quick and short, but the name rang more bells than that of the android. Pierce..? 

Bucky didn’t get much time to think on it, the android making to close the distance between them quickly. Steve launched himself towards the android, clashing with him for a moment before they both pulled back. It seemed like some kind of a draw, though Steve seemed almost shaken even by that short contact. 

Bucky took his own stance, the temperature in the room already dropping as he drew his hand back. He could cover the entire room in ice if need be—whatever it took to stop this guy so they could get past him. The first spray of ice swung a little wide, glittering against the hallway wall as Burnside dodged. 

“You’re going to have to try harder than that,” Burnside mocked with a sneer.

Bucky took the cue to aim for his feet next. If he could slow him down, they might stand a better chance at landing some hits. He threw down a healthy sheet of ice before aiming directly at the other’s legs, see if he could move at all with something like that.

It seemed like it would work for a moment until Burnside shattered through the ice, making it look easy. He stepped forward, closing the gap between them. 

“Crap! What the hell is he?!” 

“Buck, he’s designed to capture people with powers. He’s stronger, faster, and who knows what else to make sure he can do the job.” Bucky hated the explanation, but every step he took seemed to gain him so little when Burnside moved to counteract him. The ice seemed to have little effect, either. 

Bucky took the offensive, deciding now was an even better time to test out the capability of the metal arm. He threw a punch, aiming for the android’s chest and the glowing panel he was willing to bet housed at least some of its power. Bucky was also willing to bet that if he managed to hit it, the metal arm would make nice work of it and solve their problems. 

Burnside threw up an arm, easily deflecting the punch before throwing one of his own. It caught Bucky in the stomach, sending the air out of his lungs. Bucky countered with another punch, first from his flesh arm and then a second from the metal. The first didn’t seem to do much more than irritate, and finally Burnside caught the second in his own hand with that same twisted grin. 

“Is that all you’ve got?” Burnside asked. “With all Pierce has said about you, I figured you’d be better, Soldier.” 

Bucky froze at the comment, only for a moment as the words hit like nails. Soldier? He hadn’t been called that in a long time apart from the stupid alias in JARVIS’ computer. Not many people even knew him as that. How had he? 

The moment was all Burnside needed to disable him, pinning both arms to his sides as he struggled against his grip. Bucky snapped out of whatever haze Burnside’s comments had made, but the more he struggled, the stronger the arms seemed to close around his ribcage.

“Steve! Get to the kids!” he cried. He might have been caught, but someone had to get them. The gyros in his arm whirred and protested, air turning icy as his powers reacted to his desperation. 

“It’s almost cute that you think your kids are still outsmarting the guards,” Burnside wanted. “Now come along. Pierce has plans for all of you.” 

Bucky’s last glimpse was of Steve getting knocked away effortlessly by Burnside as the android dragged him off. Before he could entreat Steve to get up again, a swarm of guards had effectively cut them off from each other. 

“Don’t know why he wants you, but this will be cake,” Burnside grumbled to himself. 

Bucky didn’t like how that sounded. 


	14. Valuing Life is Not Weakness

When Steve came to, his first thought was to ask Tony for a better cowl to go with his outfit. They were back in the same large room that Pierce had kept him in the first time he’d been captured. The device he had been using to keep him suspended seemed capable of expanding; when he looked to either side, Wanda and Pietro had been strung up as well. They were both motionless, still unconscious from whatever they’d used to transport them, but the metal shackles encased their arms as legs as well, pulling them into a trio of X’s amidst the machine. Only three. Steve’s blood ran cold, head whipping as far as he could manage to turn. 

“Looking for someone?” Steve’s head whipped back, finding focus on Pierce. The man was standing by the control panel once more, hands tucked into his pockets as he stood relatively at ease. His eyes narrowed. 

“What did you do with him?” Steve resisted the urge to yell, but the words came out in a low growl. Pierce had already done enough to Bucky, pulled the strings when he was young and vulnerable so that he would fall right into his hands. He’d taken an injured and orphaned child afraid of their powers and warped that into a tool for his own sick games. The whole facility was a testament to the continued work in that direction, and with Bucky as subject number one… 

“You served your purpose,” Pierce offered him. “And now he will serve his.”

“He’s not some toy for you to use, Pierce,” Steve barked in response, fighting the bonds once more in an attempt to get free. For every inch he might have gained, however, one wrong move sent his limbs wrenching back into position. 

“I’m afraid, Rogers, that you are under the mistaken impression that this new purpose you’ve found for him is the right one,” Pierce offered. He evaluated first Steve and then the two children on either side of him who were beginning to show signs of waking. The overriding expression on his face was of distaste. “But he was meant for more than that. Heroes, we could control. You follow your moral code and will stand down because a series of rules tells you to. It’s always only been a matter of time before the villainous enhanced decide that they will take advantage of this fact. Now that we’ve developed a way of keeping enhanced individuals in line, all it took was a push in the right direction to show the world just how valuable oversight can be.” 

“Manipulating events so that they happen in your favor won’t guarantee anything.” Steve’s fury backed his words with harshness and a level of enmity for the man before him. 

“Don’t be naive, Rogers,” Pierce responded. “This little show is merely an opportunity to show the world just what they should be afraid of. An episode carefully managed and under our control, just enough to show them what is needed. James will play the part we tell him to and help us maintain order. Surely you can agree that a world without the threat of villains is better for everyone?” 

Though Steve had heard Pierce’s question, his focus had been drawn to the comment before it. Bucky… They were planning on using him the same way they had seven years ago. They’d wipe him, turn him into a weapon. It was the only conclusion Steve could draw, and the very thought of it caused his stomach to lurch.

“Not when it involves using innocent people as pawns,” Steve growled back. “Controlling people against their will and using fear are not genuine ways of bringing change!” 

“We’ll just have to see about that now, won’t we?” Pierce offered with a cruel chuckle. “I’ll be more than happy to share the results with you. I’m afraid this is all the time I have for chitchat. I’ve got plans to set in motion.” Pierce shot him one last smug look before he turned on a heel to leave.

Steve thought about barking something out at Pierce’s retreating back, but he managed to bite it back at the last moment. It wouldn’t do him any good, even if every nerve in his body was firing with the desire to throw a fist in Pierce’s direction. Many. As many as it took to stop him and find his way to wherever they were keeping Bucky. 

“Dad?” Pietro’s voice came with an accompanying groan as he started to wake. “Where’s..?” 

“He doesn’t know,” Wanda offered before Steve could say anything, surprisingly awake in comparison to her brother. Steve wondered briefly if she had woken sooner, smart enough to keep the illusion until Pierce had left the room. “But it’s likely he’s in trouble.” 

“We’re _all_ in trouble,” Pietro responded. “They’re not going to just let us go when this is all over.” 

“Pietro,” Wanda chastised. 

“What? You know it’s true,” he shot back. “They’re probably going to use us just like they’re going to use Dad!” 

Well, that made two kids who knew. 

“They’re _not_ going to use your father,” Steve responded, forcing himself to find some kind of calm. “We’re going to get out of here and we’re going to find him.” 

“Oh yeah,” Pietro responded, squirming in his bonds to no avail. “Just like he was going to come rescue you? Look where that got us. Captured, too, while some crazy guy is making superheroes to attack. We’re doing _so_ well.” 

“Pietro, I know you’re frustrated,” Steve said, trying to force his voice even. He’d never wanted his children to end up in a situation like this. Even with all of his frustration with not being able to _work_ , he’d never put much thought into the fact that he’d never wanted to envision them having to deal with things like this. It had been an oversight on his part, one that struck as just another blow in the many that had landed as the lie he’d allowed himself to believe had unravelled. 

“Frustrated would be an understatement,” Pietro responded. “I can see why Dad was so angry with you. Lying to him so you could go off and do some sketchy work for a person you didn’t even know? Did you even think about it for like a second?” 

The words were harsh, but as much as they twisted Steve’s gut, he knew Pietro spoke the truth. He’d let his desire to continue hero work get in the way, and his family was now paying dearly for it. He sagged in the bonds, head falling. 

“I know,” Steve offered, voice low. “I’ve made some big mistakes. In doing what I thought was right, I put all of us in danger. For that… I am sorry.” He heaved a sigh, eyes focused on a point on the floor in front of him. “But the best thing I can do for that is fix things as best I can. I know I owe you all more than most, but right now Pierce is about to unleash something-” 

“That could kill everyone?” Wanda broke in. When Steve turned his head, however, Wanda had disappeared from her place beside him. He found her standing by the control panel. The large, ball-shaped shackles still encased her hands, but she’d somehow managed to break free of the magnetic pulses that had kept them in place. “Now, we’ve made some excellent progress today, but we do have something we need to accomplish.” She let one shackled hand fall onto the control panel. It did the trick, pushing a button that stopped the magnetic pulse. With that no longer holding them in place, Steve and Pietro fell out of the loop of Pierce’s specially designed prison. A moment later, the shackles opened, freeing their hands and feet. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Pietro asked as he brushed himself off, straightening his suit. “Storm the facility, find Dad, save the day?” 

“We do need to find your father,” Steve responded. “Before they transport him. But we’re going to be _careful_.” 

“Why should we be careful with them when they’re not going to be careful with us?” Pietro shot back, a mix of disgruntled and ready to take action. Steve shot him a look, only to be given the same look in return. “We’ve had the pep-talk already. Now are we going to get off our asses or are we going to let them get away?” 

A normal parent, Steve supposed, probably would have chastised their child for using that tone with them. The conviction, however, and the fight in Pietro’s voice were so clearly reminiscent of the days he’d started as a hero that he was struck instead with a certain amount of pride. The road ahead of them was not going to be easy, but as he looked at both Wanda and Pietro he could see determination there. For all the mistakes they had made, he couldn’t help but hope that he’d had some small part in allowing them to blossom. 

But he couldn’t get too stuck in that moment, as much as he wished he could. Face turning grave, he tried to prepare himself for what they might be going up against next. 

“First things first, we’ll have to find out where they’re keeping him,” Steve offered, slipping into the easy mode of planning steps. He shook his head, letting out a small grunt of irritation. “We’re going to need to find a guard. Hopefully with the right prodding, Wanda will be able to glean the information we need from him-” 

“Or you could ask.” A voice rang out from the room’s entrance, prompting all three to swing their attention that way. Natasha was standing in the doorway, confident and full of a rebellious sort of energy. 

“Natasha?” Confusion laced Steve’s voice as he looked on the redhead before him. He hadn’t seen her since Bucky had taken a swing at her before they’d had to intervene and find the kids. 

“Pierce has been controlling people for so long, I guess I never noticed he was controlling me, too,” Natasha offered with a nonchalant shrug. “Turns out I’m not a very big fan of being controlled. How can I help?” 

Steve watched her carefully for a moment, regarding her. Natasha had worked under Pierce to bring him in, but she’d also helped him to escape before Bucky had arrived on the scene. She’d tried to prove herself an ally before, and his gut was telling him that she could be trusted. They didn’t have much time, so having Natasha there to help them find Bucky would be invaluable. 

“Do you know where they’re holding him?” Steve asked. 

“Barnes?” she asked. “By now, they’ve probably loaded him onto the jet. We’ll be lucky if we catch them in the hangar.” 

“I’ll stop them,” Pietro responded, already in motion to begin his sprint when Steve put his hand up. 

“Wait, Pietro,” he responded. “We don’t know who’s in there. You can’t just run in there headlong. These people will-” 

“Shoot you, maim you, kill you?” Pietro asked in response, rolling his eyes. “I told you. We’ve already had the talk. Now let’s _go_.” 

“Lead the way,” Steve offered Natasha, gesturing back towards the door. She gestured for them to follow with a smirk before turning and starting off at a jog through the complex. Steve, Wanda, and Pietro fell in line behind their new ally, keeping pace as she led them through the complex’s winding hallways. With each twist and turn they took, Steve was grateful for her assistance—they never would have found their way through here fast enough. Determination pushed Steve onward, a desperation to find Bucky. 

The group reached the hangar to find it empty barring one unoccupied jet. Steve came to a halt, swearing into the open space. He should have known. Pierce had only come down to the holding room to gloat about his victory; Bucky had probably already been placed on the jet, the engines running and waiting for their leader to take off. It had likely only taken it moments to take off once he’d arrived. They probably hadn’t even been released from their bonds yet. 

The failure stung bitterly, and for a moment Steve was lost. Faced with the inability to save Bucky before the plan had already started, he realized just how many details Pierce had left out of his victory gloat. He’d given the very bones of it, but in the end he’d made sure that even if they did escape, they’d have no way of knowing enough to stop it. 

“There’s an empty jet over there,” Natasha’s voice broke through his haze of anger and despair. “I can fly it.” 

“Do you know where he’s taking them?” Steve asked. 

“Rogers,” Natasha responded, shooting him an impressively unamused look. “One of the gifts of working under someone for so long is that you build trust. When people trust you, they have a habit of sharing information.” 

“She’s close with this guy and we’re trusting her?” Pietro broke in. 

“Well, kid, you don’t have many other options, do you?” Natasha quirked a brow, begging a challenge. 

“We can trust her, Pietro,” Wanda offered, directed at her brother though a small glance in Steve’s direction told him it was also for his benefit. She was supporting his decision, even if she wasn’t saying that explicitly. “She doesn’t plan on betraying us.” 

Pietro didn’t say anything in response, but his demeanor shifted a little. He hadn’t completely backed down, but he seemed willing to concede to Wanda’s assertion for the moment. 

“You should tell us what we’re up against,” Wanda said, her attention directed to Natasha this time. “If you know the details, sharing them will help us be ready for what we’re up against.” 

“I’ll be happy to share all the dirty details once we’re underway,” Natasha responded. “But if you want to prevent Pierce from using Barnes, we need to make up lost time.” 

With time ticking on the clock, Steve knew she was right. They’d wasted enough time already and each moment here meant another moment Bucky was stuck under Pierce’s control. They had to stop him… 

“Let’s go,” Steve responded. “Think you can make up the time?” 

“I’m hurt that you're questioning my skills, Rogers,” Natasha responded, tone just a tad bit playful. As the plane shot through the skies, however, Steve had little doubt they’d be able to put a stop to Pierce’s plans.


	15. I Can't Lose You Again

Once they were in the air, Steve’s attention turned back to Natasha once more. He had a vague idea of Pierce’s plans for Bucky, but he needed more information if he hoped to be able to stop him.

He wouldn’t let Bucky hurt anyone. Not again and not when he’d never forgive himself for doing so.

“So, what exactly are Pierce’s plans for Bucky?” Steve asked.

“I’d think that would be fairly obvious,” Natasha responded. “He needs two parties for his little ‘make the world continue to hate enhanced’ scheme. The problem? He needs at least one party to be someone well-known. If he can convince the public that the threat has never gone away, then he can convince them to buy into his ideas. If Pierce gets permission to manufacture those androids, it means he holds all of the cards when it comes to dealing with enhanced.”

“So he’s going to use Bucky because he was a well-known villain?” Steve asked.

“Well he did create quite the display right before the ERA,” Natasha offered. “That, and Pierce already knew he’d be easy to control. He’d done it before. Unfortunately, offering you the job was as much about using your skills to hone the Burnside android as it was about luring Bucky out of hiding and finding a way to get ahold of him.”

Steve bristled at the thought. That Pierce had used both of them and was going to use Bucky for this scene he was setting now sent anger coursing red hot through his veins. They needed to get there and stop it before it got that far.

“So he sets the android up as the hero, lets Bucky be the bad guy, and everything falls into place the way he wants?”

“Exactly.” Natasha sighed. “He’s not going to be who you think he is, Steve. Pierce will have burned every memory out he could, filling his head with one thing—the objective. You may not want to get in his way, and I’m not sure how much will be left.”

“I’ve done it before,” Steve responded. “When we didn’t even know each other. I’ll do it again.”

“And he’s got us,” Pietro responded. “Three of us against this brainwashing? It doesn’t have a chance.”

“We’ll break through to him,” Wanda chimed in, her own face determined.

If anyone had the chance of breaking through, Steve felt like Wanda’s powers would give her the upper hand. Her ability to look into people’s minds might just help her find something within Bucky and pull it out again.

Natasha shook her head like she didn’t quite believe them.

“Remember, we have to stop Barnes _and_ Burnside. I don’t think he’ll be happy that we’re crashing his crowning moment,” Natasha offered after a moment.

“It’s going to take all the power we have to stop him. He’s been designed to best enhanced, but I’m willing to bet if we throw as many enhanced as we can against him, he won’t be as ready to combat it,” Steve broke in. “Wanda, call Sam. I’ll call Tony. That gives us two more in this fight.”

* * *

 

By the time they had landed in the city, both Sam and Tony were on call to help with the fight. Nothing had started yet, but Steve had a hard time believing that it wouldn’t be soon. Natasha had sped up the process, but he doubted it could have done enough to get them there ahead of time.

“Any idea on the location of where they’re going to start this?” Steve asked Natasha.

“If Pierce wants to put on a show,” a voice interrupted, filtering through the comms they’d just put on. “He’s going to pick the center of the city, don’t you think? Somewhere big where a lot of people might see it.” It was at that moment that Tony flew up, fully decked out in his Iron Man suit. Steve hadn’t seen it in years, but the sight was reassuring.

“Sorry if I’m late to the party,” Sam cut in just after. “Been a while since I’ve gotten to stretch these babies out. Where’re we headed?”

“Stark’s probably right,” Natasha offered with a shrug. “City center’s going to be the best place for an audience. Pierce wants this to be public.”

“Tony, Sam, you’ll be faster arriving than we will. Can you scout ahead? Let us know what you see. We’ll be right behind you.” It was easy for Steve to slip into the role he’d once played. There was something even more fulfilling about this: leading people with a purpose. This was the hero work he was meant to do. With the determination to get Bucky back and out of the hands of Pierce, he was prepared to step into whatever role was needed to make that happen.

“Roger that, Rogers,” Tony responded, throwing him a salute. “Oh, but before I go. Had this nifty little toy sitting around since the last time we talked. Figured it might come in handy.” Tony tossed something his direction; Steve only just managing to catch it.

When he caught the slim piece of metal, it exploded out in all directions, metal plates growing and sliding until they turned into a solid disc. The metal bar he had caught had turned into a handle of sorts, giving him a… shield?

“Considering you like to use your _body_ as a shield, I figured I could make some improvements,” Tony responded. “It wasn’t quite ready when the suits were, but I figured since we’re going up against some big evil organization it might come in handy. It even magnetizes to the arm of your suit.”

Steve took a moment to look it over, admiring the new gift. For all that he’d fought years without it, something seemed right about bearing this on his arm. He nodded to Tony, the best thanks he could offer in the moment.

“You’d better get going,” he commented to both Sam and Tony.

Sam gave him a nod in response before following the other.

“Let’s rock and roll,” Tony quipped before he too took off to sweep the city looking for the action about to start.

“Wanda, Pietro,” he turned to look back to them. “You will run back up as needed. That means linger back, watch what the others are doing, and act where you see openings.” Steve wanted nothing more than to keep them out of the fight, but they needed all the hands they could get. Besides, he’d seen how they fought on the island and could see in their eyes how useless it would be to try and hold them back. This, hopefully, would be enough.

“Our primary goals are to keep the battle from starting, keep people safe if it does, and make sure Burnside doesn’t kill Bucky or one of us before the fight is over. We’ll need to disable him and break through whatever programming Pierce has Bucky under. I know it’s a tall order, but I think we can do it if we put our minds to it.” He was hopeful. He had to be if he wanted to call this a victory. “Now let’s move out. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Make that no time,” Tony corrected. “We have a sighting on Barnes. Making ice sculptures in the park. I would commend him on his craftsmanship if he wasn’t trying to use people as a base.”

“On our way,” Steve shot back to Tony before turning to the group standing behind him. The park near the center of town would fulfill most everything that they’d determined Pierce wanted. He only hoped that Tony and Sam could hold Bucky off long enough for them to get there. “The park at the center of town. Bucky’s there, no sightings of Burnside yet.”

“Oh, he’ll be there,” Natasha assured, just a small hint of levity in her voice. Wanda and Pietro both nodded, determination painted on their faces.

Steve wasn’t going to force them to fight Bucky. If he had his way, he’d be keeping them far away from him. If this was anything like the first time he’d faced him brainwashed, Steve wasn’t about to let either one of them run the risk of being harmed. Bucky would never forgive himself if he came out of the brainwashing to realize that he’d hurt either of them. If Steve had his way, this would be a one-on-one fight only as long as necessary to pull Bucky from Pierce’s control.

Then they’d have a bigger fight on their hands.

When they got to the park, whole swathes of it were covered in what appeared to be snow. It was already turning rapidly to slush in the much warmer weather, but it served as a calling card that Bucky had been through there recently.

“Stark?” Steve reached out over the coms, looking up for signs of where Sam and Tony might be. “Sam? Do we have eyes on him?”

“He’s in the back corner,” Sam’s voice crackled over a moment later. “By the lake.”

“A lovely _frozen_ lake, now, might I add,” Tony butted in. “He’s really going for the Winter Wonderland effect.”

Steve didn’t respond, and he didn’t say anything to the others either as he changed his direction. The park wasn’t big, and it didn’t take long for the now-frozen lake to come into view. He paused, taking in the immediately surrounding area as he tried to locate Bucky. He was here somewhere-

It was a scream from Wanda that drew Steve’s attention.

“Wanda!” Steve’s path altered in the direction of her voice, picking up pace as he tried to keep his blood from running cold.

He arrived just in time to find Bucky and Wanda faced off against each other. The look in Bucky’s eyes was something decidedly predatory yet almost vacant. Steve recognized the look from that fight seven years before, but watching Bucky stalk towards their daughter without an ounce of recognition made it even more terrifying than he’d remembered.

Steve’s attention was pulled out of the memories sharply when the scarlet of Wanda’s powers flashed. She’d thrown up a shield to protect herself from being hit with the blast of ice Bucky had sent her direction. She took several steps back, trying to put distance between herself and Bucky. It was a scene straight out of Steve’s nightmares.

“Bucky! Stop!” He flung himself between Bucky and Wanda, throwing up his new shield instinctively as Bucky threw an ice blast his direction. The blast hit the shield dead-on, but the only evidence was the burst of cold that erupted around the shield. “Wanda! Run!”

Steve had barely gotten the words out before Bucky closed the distance between them, the blast of ice followed by the force of a metal fist colliding with the shield. Steve threw his weight in against it to keep himself from sliding as he glanced back. Wanda had disappeared.

“Get out of my way!” Bucky snarled, the words coming out almost feral. Steve pulled the shield down just enough to get a better look at him. The expression he wore was twisted in rage, arm already pulling back to unleash another attack Steve’s direction. There was no hint of recognition in Bucky’s steel-grey eyes, none of the compassion or even the frustration Bucky had shown him just moments before they’d been separated. Pierce had wiped all traces of Bucky out of him, leaving behind a hull of rage with a mission.

“I’m not going to let you harm them,” Steve growled in response, thrusting his weight behind the shield as Bucky swung again. Shield met arm with a metallic clang, echoing through the clearing. “I won’t let you touch our kids!”

Bucky cried out, his rage strangled with frustration at meeting an obstacle that wouldn’t move. He made no attempt to respond in words, but the barrage of swings that followed came almost erratically—desperate, even, to make Steve stop talking.

“Come on, Buck,” Steve started. He’d been able to break through the control over Bucky years ago when they hadn’t known each other. Seven years living together in married life had to give him some kind of foot up. He just needed to figure out _what_ would break through. “Pierce has you under his control right now, but I know this isn’t you. I know you wouldn’t attack Wanda. You love your kids more than anything.” It was a fight to keep his voice even, emphatic but not overly emotional, as he tried to appeal to Bucky.

“Shut up!” Bucky’s cry came in that same desperate tone, throwing another punch that very nearly knocked Steve off his feet.

“Rogers?” Tony’s voice filtered into his ear. “We have another problem. A big one. Our friend Burnside? Yeah, he’s here.”

Steve cursed. He’d wanted Bucky broken free before the android showed up. With two enemies…

“Do what you can to keep him occupied! Remember, we need to get him through the panel in his chest.” Steve didn’t like the orders he was giving. He didn’t like the idea of sending everyone else up against an android designed to neutralize enhanced. Tony, Natasha, and Sam he knew could handle it for a time, but Pietro and Wanda? He cringed at the idea of sending his relatively untested children up against something that had taken he and Bucky out like a couple of rookies.

“Don’t you go all mother hen on us, Rogers,” Natasha broke in over the comm. There was an amusement in her voice despite the dire situation. “We’ll keep the two brats safe.”

Steve only vaguely heard Pietro’s retort about being called a brat before the wind was knocked out of him from the side. In his attempts to keep Bucky distracted while also trying to give the team orders, Steve had failed to keep his full attention in the moment. Bucky had found a way around the shield, driving the metal fist into Steve’s side. Steve gasped and spluttered, taking a few steps back and only just managing to throw the shield up to catch the arm as it came in for a second.

Even then, the block was weak and rattled through him as he gasped for air. The smirk that appeared on Bucky’s face was only a cruel reminder of how tightly the control still held him as he threw another punch.

Then the shield went flying. Steve lost his grip on it in his attempts to keep Bucky’s new barrage of kicks and punches at bay. For a brief moment he considered scrambling after it. The shield had managed to keep him from sustaining damage under the metal arm or blasts of ice. Bucky was moving too fast, too unimpeded for him to hope he’d get his hands on it before Bucky managed to get ahold of him.

Steve did the only thing he could think to do and caught Bucky’s metal fist in both of his hands. Pain radiated up both arms, jarred by the force of the object coming into them. His own cry of pain mingled with Bucky’s angry growl as he was caught, unable to pull back as Steve latched both hands around his arm as tightly as possible.

“Bucky! This isn’t you!” Steve held fast to his arm, jostled as Bucky attempted to pull free. Pain blossomed as the captured enhanced threw his flesh fist against his other side, attempting to weaken him enough he could pull away. “You’re stronger than this! I know you are!”

“Shut up!” Bucky snarled again. The snarl was accompanied by a fresh wave of agony. Steve glanced down for a brief moment to see that Bucky had pulled a dagger from one of the numerous sheaths on his uniform and driven it into his side. Red decorated its metal edges, the wound radiating pain.

“I won’t!” Steve responded, mustering his strength to flip the pair so that Bucky landed with his back on the ground. Steve pinned him there, pinning each arm with one of his own. He wasn’t sure how long he had, but he needed this chance to break through to him. “You need to snap out of this, Buck. Before you hurt someone you care about. Before you do something you’re not going to be able to forgive yourself for when you wake up.”

“Leave me alone!” Bucky growled, struggling against him and jarring the wound he’d created in Steve’s side. He bit his lip against letting the pained noise slip, redoubling his efforts to hold down Bucky’s arms and keep him pinned.

“Bucky, come on! You know me!” Steve entreated.

“No I don’t!” he snarled back in his face, though once again it held a note of desperation and despair amidst the rage. Bucky’s voice cracked, the angry expression faltering into a brief moment’s flicker of lost confusion.

“You do,” Steve responded, firm as he asserted it. “We’ve lived together the last seven years, Buck. We have three kids. You were reluctant at first, but you love them all like they’ve always been a part of you.” The firmness started to break down as Bucky continued to struggle and writhe underneath him. Steve wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold him.

Bucky threw his weight, managing to knock them both off balance so that they rolled again. This time, Bucky was the one pinning Steve to the floor, slamming him against the cement walkway. Steve groaned, pain and a small wave of dizziness running through him.

“Bucky, please-”

“You are my mission,” Bucky offered him, voice icy and determined once more. “And I’m going to finish it.”

“Bucky,” Steve’s voice came out soft, the tone of command gone as vulnerability set in. “Please don’t do this.” It was his fault Bucky was under Pierce’s control now. If he hadn’t allowed himself to get caught up in the offer of hero work, Pierce wouldn’t have been able to use that to gain access to Bucky. If he had been more careful and listened to his suspicions, Bucky might not ever have had to come after him to try saving him. Guilt washed over him, along with the hurt of having allowed someone he loved to be put in such a position.

Bucky pulled back his fist, the first punch hitting Steve square against one cheek. Pain blossomed across his face, followed by another fresh wave as the punch hit again.

“Buck,” Steve choked out amidst the agony. “I’m sorry. I let this happen to you. I already thought I lost you once before, please… don’t make me lose you again. Not like this, Buck.”

Bucky paused, arm still poised back to strike again. His composure seemed to be wavering, however, face running through a whole host of unreadable emotions. Fury morphed into confusion morphed into despair, all so quickly Steve had a hard time gauging where he was. All he needed to know, however, was that it was working.

“Buck, I love you,” he murmured. “And I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt that… I love you.”

For a moment, the words seemed to hang between them with no change. Bucky still hung over him, fist poised and expression trying to pull itself back into the cold mask he’d worn when Steve first found him. Slowly at first and then all at once, the cracks and chinks seemed to widen, falling apart entirely as tears formed in his eyes. His posture relaxed, arm coming down as the corners of his mouth dragged downward into a frown, eyes furrowed in confusion.

“You love me?” he asked, voice quiet and unsure. Even that sent warmth and affection blossoming in Steve’s chest.

“I do, Buck. I think I’ve loved you for a long time,” Steve offered him, tone tender. “Just thought I had made it more obvious than I did.”

“Steve.” Bucky’s whole face seemed to brighten over the word, a smile blooming with more certainty as he looked down at him. The aggression leaked out of his posture and he sank, perched on top of him. Steve found himself smiling, too, despite the pain. Relief mingled with an almost overwhelming joy to hear Bucky say his name again, to see him snapped free of the control they’d put him under.

Steve barely had time to register Bucky was moving before Bucky had surged forward, pressing his lips firmly against Steve’s. It was eager and desperate at the same time, feeling both like home and the claiming of something entirely new. Things had shifted, if only in a small, almost imperceptible way, but it was palpable. For a few moments, Steve remained immersed in the kiss until Bucky shifted and a sharp pain in his side pulled a groan out of him.

Bucky pulled away, face clouding over with worry once more. Steve could almost see the weight of the control coming down on him, an awareness of what he’d just come out of. Steve had only seen it once before, but the look had been so striking that it was impossible for Steve to forget.

“What did I do?” he asked quietly, sagging against Steve. He bowed his head, obscuring his face behind a curtain of dark hair.

“Well, you brought us winter a little bit early,” Steve offered, trying to muster some cheer.

“Steve,” Bucky’s voice was sullen, but firm. “Don’t sugarcoat it. Please.”

“No one’s seriously injured, including me. We found you early on. Wanda and Pietro are safe, and now so are you,” Steve offered, moving to slide his hands along Bucky’s arms. He ignored the burning pain in his side and the throbbing pains elsewhere so he could help try to fix the hurts his husband was feeling. “We’ll get through this, Buck. Pierce took advantage of you.”

“But I still-”

“Look, I was trying not to intrude on your grand reunion, but we could really use a little help here,” Tony’s voice crackled loud enough that Steve was sure Bucky had also heard it.

“We’d love to give you a moment, but we’ve got a whole other issue,” Sam offered, voicing his agreement.

“Burnside,” Bucky responded, tone going dark with fury once again. “That asshole wanted me to fight him. I don’t think he _cared_ if I came out of it alive.”

“And we’re going to stop him,” Steve responded. “There are seven of us. I think that’s pretty good odds against one android.”

“He’s designed to take down enhanced, Steve,” Bucky responded. “He tore through us in minutes.”

“Well, we’ll give him one hell of a fight he won’t forget.” Steve couldn’t risk letting himself be deterred now. With his family on the line, he needed to stay focused on the possibility of their victory.

“We appreciate your concern, Dad, but we’d really like your help,” Pietro responded. “I can only outrun him for so long.”

Bucky’s face morphed from shocked to furious and then back into some mix of both as his eyes trained on Steve. “You’re letting our kids _fight?!_ ”

“They wanted to help,” Steve responded. “You know as well as I do they were going to help anyway. It was better to just accept it.”

“Okay, you two. Not the time for another lover’s quarrel,” Natasha broke in, and for a moment Bucky’s eyes flashed dangerously before he calmed. He slid off Steve carefully, standing up and trying to sort himself out. Steve took the opportunity to stand as well, wincing at his wounds. When Bucky looked like he might comment, he waved him off.

“Where should we meet you?”

“Well, just as we thought, they dropped Burnside off. He’s not so pleased we aren’t letting him get to his target. Oh, and the whole robbing him of his fight thing. You might want to hurry,” Tony chimed in again.

True to Tony’s word, Steve and Bucky came across the fight almost as soon as they had stepped foot outside the park’s gates. Burnside was currently distracted by Pietro’s speed, the teen jetting about in a blur to keep the android from being able to focus on him for long.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” Tony commented as they paused to take stock of the battle. Almost in the same moment that they did this, Burnside’s attention swiveled in their direction. His eyes narrowed as they lit on Bucky.

 _“You_ ,” he snarled, stalking towards them.

“I’m not under Pierce’s control, you asshole,” Bucky responded, taking a step forward and away from Steve.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re not. This will end the same,” Burnside snarled. “I just need to _beat_ you to show everyone else the menace you all are. Whether he controls you or not is insignificant.”

“Hey, asshole!” Pietro’s voice rang out, pulling Steve’s attention away from the pseudo-confrontation. “I wasn’t done with you yet!” He sped in front of the android, effectively positioning himself between Bucky and Burnside.

“How dare you?!” Burnside raised a hand. “You pathetic little insect, I will teach you a lesson about getting in my way!” The android launched forward, ready to attack.

“Pietro!” The frantic call came from not one but two places—Wanda’s shrill cry melding with the panicked one out of Bucky’s mouth. There was a flash of red and Burnside’s fist stopped in midair, wavering as he growled. Wanda, standing off to the side, appeared to be struggling with some invisible force as she used her own powers to grapple with the android’s powerful punch.

Bucky had already started forward to grab Pietro, only for Sam to come swooping through on his wings. He caught the teen around the middle, pulling him clear just as Wanda’s hold on the punch shattered and Burnside’s arm lurched forward to attack. Natasha had stepped forward to make sure Wanda had a clear berth as Burnside’s head swung rapidly in search of the person who had impeded his swing.

“We’ll keep people away,” Tony called. “Cap, Buckster, think you guys can handle him?”

“We have it,” Bucky’s voice went icy as he stepped forward again, servos in his arm whirring as he clenched his metal fist. While Steve couldn’t see the look on Bucky’s face from his position slightly behind, whatever it was had been enough that even the android gave a moment’s pause.

“I disabled you in moments,” Burnside growled at him, his grin turning decidedly gleeful and smug as he faced Bucky. “What makes you think this time will be any different?”

“The first time you were only in the way of me protecting my kids,” Bucky responded, so furious he was nearly shaking. “This time? This time you made a big mistake, pal. You _don’t ever_ lay a hand on my kids. I’m gonna rip you limb from limb and I’m going to _enjoy_ it.” Steve could hear the venom dripping in Bucky’s voice, knew that every word out of Bucky’s mouth was well and truly heartfelt. It was only the fact that the words weren’t directed at him that kept dread from overtaking Steve.

“And how do you plan on doing that?” Burnside asked, his chuckle seeming both amused and disbelieving.

“Because he’s got me,” Steve offered in response, stepping forward. “And while I may not always be a fan of those odds, I think I’ll make an exception.”

Burnside’s grin flickered to fury for a moment before he launched himself towards them with no further indication of chatting. He threw another punch, coming in fast. Bucky stepped in, catching the punch in his metal arm. He slid back a few inches with a cry, but he seemed relatively unharmed.

Then the fight broke out.

Steve had always wondered what it would be like to fight alongside Bucky instead of against him. The fight at the facility had been so short-lived that he had only gotten the barest glimpse, and even that was nothing compared to the feeling he got now. They worked together like two pieces of the same machine. When Bucky moved, Steve found it almost instinctive where he needed to move to fill another gap. While Burnside seemed capable of holding his own, the upper hand he’d had before seemed to rapidly diminish in the face of their own determination and fury. Steve knew Bucky’s came from a protective fury, but he also imagined Bucky was determined to see Burnside taken down for even being part of the plan to use him as a pawn. Steve’s fury was directed at Burnside for attacking his family, but also at what he stood for. He was Pierce’s greatest achievement in trying to force the hands of those in charge on the lives of the enhanced. Pierce had created a tool to use against others, and he’d made the mistake of testing it first on the Rogers-Barnes family.

The battle between them seemed to draw on forever. Whenever it seemed like Bucky or Steve might have a chance to deal the finishing blow, Burnside would turn away and take their window. There reached a point, however, when Burnside found himself unable to turn and move.

“What is this?!” he growled, swiveling at his hips to look down.

While Steve and Bucky had both been throwing punches, Bucky had taken advantage of Burnside’s divided attention to lay down a thick layer of ice. The solid layer of ice looked almost like an ice sculpture crafted around the android’s legs, keeping him in place.

“Do you really expect this to hold me for long?” he asked, tone mocking. “Pierce built me better than this! You’ll never be able to beat me with cheap tricks.”

“It doesn’t need to hold you long,” Steve responded, having a good idea of where Bucky had been taking this.

“Just long enough for us to finish you off,” Bucky responded, having shot in closer. Bucky’s punch hit the other solidly in the chest, shattering the glowing plate there and breaking through until the fist came out the android’s back, a cluster of wires clutched in his hand. Burnside’s eyes flickered for a moment, facial expressions contorting so that one side looked confident and smug while the other half looked panicked, before the android collapsed into a pile.

“Didn’t turn out the way you wanted it to, did you?” Bucky asked the inanimate android, tossing the wires down.

Steve panted for a moment, hardly believing that the battle was _over_. They’d managed to destroy Burnside and, hopefully, put an end to his plans.

“Oh, maybe not how we planned.” Another voice entered the scene, Steve’s attention immediately pulled towards a cross-section of the street. Pierce stood there, Peter cradled in the older man’s arms. “But I think we have enough to work with here.”

“Pierce,” Bucky’s voice contained the venom Steve wanted to supply. “Let go of him. Now.”

“I’m afraid you don’t get to make that call. Neither of you do,” Pierce responded, the grin on his face shit-eating. “You are both in violation of the Enhanced Relocation Act. Soldier, you’ve created a mess of the park and both of you have made a very public show of not following the ERA’s tenets. In addition, your charge’s involvement shows that he has not fulfilled his duty in instilling the importance of anonymity and compliance in your children. We have no choice but to relocate all three children into better homes. The two of you will be dealt with at the Council’s discretion, along with your three compatriots.”

“And who’s going to stand with you after what happened today?” Steve asked, gathering the ranks closer. Bucky stepped in beside him as Sam and Tony landed close by. Natasha had shifted herself between the children and Pierce, her expression unreadable.

“You are the ones who acted outside of your agreements,” Pierce responded. He bounced Peter in his arms, but the little boy’s attention was focused solely on his parents across the way. His lip wobbled, unhappy noises following as he seemed on the verge of tears.

“Someone will stop you,” Steve responded. “We won’t let you take them.”

“I’ll find them excellent homes. This one is so young he’ll probably hardly remember you. It’s probably better for him, that he won’t grow up in a household where he’ll be told that powers are something to wield whenever one feels like. Maybe I’ll even raise him myself.” Pierce’s smile turned cruel and Steve could feel Bucky sag next to him.

“We need to do something,” Bucky murmured to him, an air of desperation in his voice. “He can’t- He can’t have him.”

“We’ll get him back,” Steve offered him, though he was currently drawing a blank on how to stop Pierce and get Peter back without causing harm.

“We’ll take it from here, Mr. Secretary,” Fury’s voice boomed as he stalked over from a row of vans that had just arrived on the outskirts of the perimeter that had been set up. His face was unreadable, and Steve wasn’t certain how to feel about Fury being there. He wasn’t sure if it being Fury instead of Pierce would make Bucky any less inclined to fight them over taking the children.

“Yes, all seven need to be taken in,” Pierce offered, gesturing to the group. “They’ve violated the Act. Disciplinary action must be taken and the two youngest will need to be relocated to homes properly able to help them. I’ll put them in your capable hands.”

“Alexander Pierce, hand the child over and put your hands up,” Natasha broke off from the group, gun raised and pointed at Pierce. Peter started wailing, and Steve had to reach out to grab Bucky’s arm before he put himself between the pair.

“Steve! She’ll-”

“You have to trust her. She won’t shoot him,” Steve offered, though he knew he’d had to force the even tone in his voice. He had to trust Natasha. If they interfered, Pierce might get away with Peter. “She works for Fury. She’s got this under control.”

“Romanoff. I should have figured you were Fury’s eyes.” Pierce’s eyes filled with scorn. “You’ll have to come get him. I can realize when I’ve been outgunned.”

Natasha took a few steps forward, carefully, her gun still pointed at Pierce as she made her way to retrieve Peter.

“She should have let _me_ ,” Bucky muttered to Steve, though the irritation in his voice was covered with fear and desperation.

As Natasha got close, Pierce’s feigned innocence turned cruel once more, smile warping into something dangerous.

“It’s me or him, Romanoff,” he commented, before he tossed the wailing Peter into the air.

“No!” Bucky broke out of Steve’s grasp, trying to close the distance between them. Steve took steps forward to follow him forward, and he could see the blur of Pietro moving to stop the fall as well.

A gunshot rang out. Pierce fell. Peter did not. Pietro, Steve, and Bucky nearly collided with each other as they all reached the point where Peter had been to find that none of them had caught him.

Then they heard Peter’s _giggles_ from above them. Steve’s head swung upwards to find that Peter was _sticking_ to one of the low-lying branches in the tree Pierce had been standing under. He was holding on with both hands and feet though neither were wrapped around the tree’s branch. Though the branch bowed towards the ground with the child’s weight, Peter didn’t budge from his spot.

“He can… stick to things?” Bucky asked, panic melting from his voice as he also peered up at the child. “Oh no, nothing bad is going to happen from that.”

By the time they got Peter down from the tree, the toddler curling up happily into Bucky’s arms, Pierce had been taken to one of the vans in handcuffs. As the guards shuffled him into the van, arm bandaged where the shot had grazed him, Fury made his way to join the group now standing under the tree.

“I thought we told you to lay low, Rogers,” Fury started, fixing him with a look. “Last I checked this is not ‘laying low.’”

“I know,” Steve responded, his stomach plummeting. The thrill of victory and seeing Pierce locked away lasted only a short while as dread came forward. Everything was out in the open, irreconcilably, and there was no refuting the broken remains of Burnside or the seven of them all clad for action. News crews off by the perimeter made it fairly clear that this had been caught on camera. “I know, I didn’t-”

Fury held up a hand to stop him. “But, seeing as you just helped stop what could have been a colossal mess,” he started, “I’m willing to overlook this _one_ instance. If only because relocating six of you at once is more work than I want to have while we deal with this.” He jerked his head back towards the van that Pierce had been loaded up into. “You got lucky. All of you. If you’d interfered any more with Agent Romanoff’s work, it would be a very different story.”

The look Fury placed them all with gave Steve the impression he knew just how much they had actually gotten in the way of what Natasha had been investigating. All the same, without their involvement, it might have taken a lot longer for Natasha to find out exactly what Pierce was up to. He supposed it balanced out. Hoped it did, for their sakes.

“So… what does this mean?” Steve dared to ask.

“It means you should all go home and do your best to pretend that this never happened,” Fury responded. “Put the suits away, go back to your normal lives. And stay out of the heroing business until we all get this sorted out, got it? Now, I’ve got things to take care of. _Go home_.” Just like that, Fury was turning back towards the vans and gesturing for Natasha to follow him.

“I’ll be in contact,” Natasha offered quickly, earning a smile from Steve and a small scowl from Bucky though it quickly melted as Peter burbled up at him. She quirked a brow before turning to follow Fury.

“Welp, hate to fight and run but I’ve got a hot date,” Tony broke in after a moment’s silence. “It’s been nice and I’ll see you all around.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Steve offered despite the roll of his eyes that came at Tony’s being himself. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”

“No problem, Cap. Always nice to work the suits out a little. I think they get lonely without something to do.” Without another word, Tony stepped a few feet away and took off into the air to head back towards Stark Tower.

“Ready to go home?” Steve asked, wrapping an arm around Bucky’s shoulders fondly. Bucky looked up at him, the smile tender and relieved.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready in my life,” Bucky responded.


	16. No School Like the Old School

_~6 months later~_

“Still no news on what those idiots are doing with the ERA,” Tony grumbled as they walked towards the school’s stadium. “Of course they’ve got it all tied up in red tape. While I’d never give him the credit, Pierce did have a point in the whole ‘villains will come back’-” 

“I thought we’d agreed not to talk shop today,” Steve cut in, effectively stopping Tony’s train of thought, though he kept the look he gave him remarkably soft. 

“Just because there’s the possibility it might get overturned doesn’t mean you need to out us in front of all the PTA moms,” Bucky chimed in. “They fawn over Steve enough without the label of Captain America to boot.” 

“Mr. Rogers.” Speak of the devils. Bucky hated each and every one of them and their dogged persistence. A trio of moms were attempting (and “failing”) to lift a cooler out of the back of one of their minivans. “You don’t suppose you could help us with the cooler for the snack stand?” 

“I-” Steve started.

“I’d be glad to help,” Bucky offered, cutting off Steve with a wicked smirk. He had absolutely zero desire to help the moms who’d grumbled every time he showed up at an event for parent volunteer hours, but the mortified looks on their faces were worth it. He turned to Steve for a moment, ignoring the skeptical arch of Steve’s brow, as he leaned up just slightly to press a kiss to Steve’s lips. 

“Save me a seat, Honey. I’ll be right there.” He offered the words just loudly enough for the gaggle of women to overhear before he pulled away, handing Peter off to his father. It took a lot of schooling not to appear overtly smug as he joined the women by the car, trying to imagine what shade of scarlet Steve had turned. 

“Oh, you really don’t have to,” one of the mothers offered, trying to hide her mortification behind awkward gratitude. 

“Really should be thanking you,” Bucky offered her, fighting to keep his grin from being shit-eating. “Gives me a chance to show off the Stark prosthetic and everything.” He hoisted the cooler up, keeping a lookout for Wanda and Pietro as he entered the stadium in search of the EZ-up that marked the snack stand.

He caught the familiar shock of snowy hair out in the center section of the track, warming up with some of his teammates though Bucky could tell Pietro’s motions were much less earnest. After their near-death experiences on the island and the defeat of Burnside, Steve and Bucky had consented to let him go out for track. While Bucky was still nervous about what would happen if his speed came across as too unnatural, he’d put it to rest in the hopes of allowing his son that glimpse of a normal life he’d craved. 

While he still hadn’t found Wanda by the time he’d finished dropping the cooler off, he imagined she was somewhere off with friends. The months after their first mission had been good to her as well, giving her an opportunity to explore the confidence that had come with knowing what kind of control she had over her powers. Though she’d had a smattering of friends before, Wanda’s time spent out with them had increased since she’d grown more adept at keeping her powers in check. 

“Oh look, there’s Wilson and… is that Romanoff?” Tony’s tone turned disbelieving as Bucky slid into his seat next to Steve up in the bleachers. Sure enough, standing at the edge of the bleachers was Sam and a now-familiar redhead. “Rogers, you could’ve warned a guy before he became the fifth wheel.” 

“You could have brought someone, too. What ever happened to that ‘hot date’ of yours?” Bucky asked teasingly in response. 

“Look, I know you and suburban dad here might consider this a romantic Saturday afternoon outing,” Tony started. “But some of us have a little bit higher standards than ‘high school track meet.’” 

“You could always go try to pick up a PTA mom. I’m sure they’d love to have a little side fun with Tony Stark,” Bucky offered with a snicker. 

“Remember who’s paying your bills, Barnes,” Tony shot back. 

“Only part of them. You get me part-time and Steve’s making more working for Fury.” 

“Buck…” Steve groaned, face going just a tad bit red. Bucky gave an affectionate roll of his eyes at Steve’s modesty, unable to shake the smile from his face. As much as Bucky enjoyed how easily Steve colored over compliments, he was also immensely proud of the step Steve had taken. 

“It’s about time, really,” Stark responded. “Though I suppose they needed him to show them how messed up the system was before they’d accept him as a person to try and help fix it.” 

The conversation trailed off, however, when an announcement over the speakers alerted them to the imminent start of Pietro’s race. Life may not have been perfect yet, but things had certainly calmed down in the wake of the battle with Burnside. With Pierce locked away, the androids taken care of, and stable jobs on both ends, Bucky was ready to settle for just a little while. 

At least, until the world had need of them again. 

FIN.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, folks! It's been a wild ride! This has definitely been one of the biggest and most amazing things I've been apart of. I'm so incredibly grateful for the opportunity and I hope you all enjoyed the ride! 
> 
> Big thanks again to debwalsh for her amazing art! It helped push me through when I thought I might fail! 
> 
> Thanks to kelsey_fantasy and aerica13 for your endless support as betas. This chapter, this epilogue, is for you (hope that little taste of PTA mom was good~). Thanks also to Juu for her help in betaing the epilogue so it could be a surprise! 
> 
> And finally, another big thank you to the slack chat, to all the friends I made, and to all the friends who leant their support during these past months! Without you I wouldn't have made it this far. 
> 
> Until next time! There are, after all, some adventures still left to be told for our super family!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cover Art - Identity is Your Most Valuable Possession](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11854686) by [debwalsh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/pseuds/debwalsh)




End file.
